Getting ready for work
Early man scampered up,
backstage manager.
Ready in ignition,
with the old wheels pampered up.
Entering the workplace
Sprawled in all emissions,
his soul feels sour camphor puffs.
Exhaling in impatience,
while he solely feels stand-ed up.
In the lobby
Falling victim to himself,
alarms clock but in the quiet,
there's no precedence in the help.
(Getting colder in the stealth)
Time elapses
No ones over he'd just keep it to himself.
After days of hard work
Years elapse,
the wait is over,
he's the seed to early wealth.
Sucess
What you built piled up
your future all lined up
Cause in the grave of all the wait you died inside
Well now you've got insight - yep
Random ending note
And lately he dont like shit
- he's been inside on the daily.
