Here I Come

Here I come world Here I come pen and paper Here I come life Here I come picket fences, cupped pencils and staplers Here I come soup cups and tasted ladels Here I come rings and wrist bands Here I come speech and mich stands And when I arrived it tasted sweet No time compared to this visual repeat My sprained and twisted lyrical box Compressed with choclate brown hair and velvet socks Blood-shot eyes like polka dots Stirring steam and stainless steal pots This isn't poetry it's traces of finger prints Its that fresh sound but without the mints So here I come fascination with inner beauty Here I come official respective duty Here I come followers of the deep Here I come swinging swords for their defeat Here I come Savior Here I come recycled behavior Here I come swear jar in my ruck sack... 'Damn I went too far, gotta go back!'