3200
Waiting on the Lord to reveal His plan
I’m lost—going in circles like a ceiling fan
Bottom half of my hourglass is filled with sand
Out of time—am I dead? People around me dressed in all black like they’re Steelers fans
And the pain’s got a grip like a gorilla’s hands
Fighting tears to save face in front of little man
Pray to God but wondering if I need a middleman
Cause I don’t know if he will listen
To Him I owe a lot
Over-drafted my requests
And now when I beseech him
He’s laughing at the mess
That I developed on my own
Enough to drive a man to put the metal to his dome
The answers keep evading me—I’ll settle with Patron
’s creek is where I find myself—peddling alone (paddling)
I’m battling with myself—wrestling a clone
Investments that went wrong
I’m paying for my chooses (choices)
But my account is running low
And I need ice to numb the bruises
Ice to chill the drink
Ice to fuel the fuel that’s enabling me to spill this ink
Like Exxon barges gone astray
Liquor’s in my system—please pardon what I say
When everything was good, dog, I’d hardly ever pray
But life’s getting a little harder, and it’s all that I can say,
