Nytheone Matt

Dancing on my hands and thinking on my feet
I speak from the heart and work in my sleep
My ears are burning, my stomach is churning
Eyes vibrating and my jaw is gurning
My knee is jigging and it’s pissing you off
Each time my mouth lies I can’t help cough
My cheeks are red from heat, stress and embarrassment
One nostril an airway the other filled with snot
Crows feet and smile lines, receding fast hairlines
My waistline a guideline a byline of bad life
This mind divided, divine decided, a sign reminded, delusional winded
My body is a temple and it’s overgrown
It’s sabbath, all my worshippers have stayed at home
Funding’s been slashed
Lost status I’m taxed
The scriptures been burnt in a fire of bones
This body not me, just a tool of the brain
No use for a cranium going insane
Money is the least inspiring to me
No use for a wingless, stingless worker bee