Target Practice

What am I to you? a wall at which you can throw weapons well I won't take any more bullets so you can get to steppin' whenever you would screw up I would always take the fall I laid my life on the line for you I busted my balls I've done a lot of shit for you and what do I get in return? my skin is covered in flesh wounds I've fallen victim to a nasty burn you try to teach people but they never fucking learn talking sense into people it never seems to work my patience runs very thin putting me on the verge of going berserk so tell me what am I good for? shooting bullets or throwing knives pushing arrows through my chest or pouring acid in my eyes I guess I'm just a pile of shit sitting around collecting flies your cocky attitude and negligence I so passionately despise but apparently you're unconcerned you don't even give a damn all you do is feed off of decomposing objects like worms when in the midst of your presence no one can ever see the light 'cause you don't have electricity you drown people in darkness every night so I guess to you I'm just target practice By Glenn McCrary © 2010 Glenn McCrary (All rights reserved)