the years

the years i was a threat to myself
was long hard aching years
the years i gave to the machine
was mean lean greasing things
the years i didn’t know the land
was wrong wrong sour sand 
the fears the tears the yellow years
was smears on the conscience 
was smelting orange jeers
i was going and denying myself life
itself was dying in my bathroom mirror
crying and trying to be 
a coy toy is a lot easier
than facing the machine
every day watching me
oh i’m a raver 
a misbehavior 
some of y’all savior complex
getting out of hand i would know 
cuz i used to make the same demand 
but it never end / you break and bend
you ache and spend more than u got
i do that a lot too partner 
it’s not an investment 
it’s a barter so don’t order anything 
a la carte