“But I Don’t Like It Anymore”
My head don’t like the thought,
Like I assume blood feels,
As it’s pushed through the morrow.
In the words of any of the wise.
We should appreciate in every way.
But in my experience it’s like walking through mud,
Each step more heavy by the one that came before.
And I’m sorry if it makes me a bitch.
But I don’t like it anymore.