jaymie
Bluelighter
A disapointing metaphor on an awakened woman's mind,
This catastrophic piece of paper tearing at her soul.
Picking through the tyranny of the world at her doggy bowl.
Sitting on the very same bench where I ate and thought of this sad fate,
she reads it just a little too late.
La playa, he just get's erroded by waves of women,
but he feels it as a human.
A playa is a beach,
stretching wild and free.
The beach feels everything,
it's got the sun,
swarming with experience, cognition, expressions of life.
The women, they roll to this way of speaking, they see him like a portal to their own missing light.
We try to meld our sun and moon lights, but inner workings don't permit the tides to turn underneath.
Swarms of women rolling around on his hot, hot sands,
but you know that in the end it's the beach that get's erroded and the women are free to roam forever.
What of the women though? Roaming from beach to beach, they never settle their score.
The playa stays with his brother beaches, forgettin' the bitches as they down one more beer waitin' for another tide to roll on in.
Broken, the waves get pulled in and pushed back out.
In an eternity they will do this over and over and over again,
while the playas get born again in a rock.
Snapping back into their role of la playa.
It's time we understand just a bit more of our fate.
This catastrophic piece of paper tearing at her soul.
Picking through the tyranny of the world at her doggy bowl.
Sitting on the very same bench where I ate and thought of this sad fate,
she reads it just a little too late.
La playa, he just get's erroded by waves of women,
but he feels it as a human.
A playa is a beach,
stretching wild and free.
The beach feels everything,
it's got the sun,
swarming with experience, cognition, expressions of life.
The women, they roll to this way of speaking, they see him like a portal to their own missing light.
We try to meld our sun and moon lights, but inner workings don't permit the tides to turn underneath.
Swarms of women rolling around on his hot, hot sands,
but you know that in the end it's the beach that get's erroded and the women are free to roam forever.
What of the women though? Roaming from beach to beach, they never settle their score.
The playa stays with his brother beaches, forgettin' the bitches as they down one more beer waitin' for another tide to roll on in.
Broken, the waves get pulled in and pushed back out.
In an eternity they will do this over and over and over again,
while the playas get born again in a rock.
Snapping back into their role of la playa.
It's time we understand just a bit more of our fate.
