While I sit alone in this room I've got crates full of sorrow
Even more filled with shadows That i fish out and ridicule when i'm felling lonely.
I'm lacking sense, but bound in a very specific direction It's phonomenal and unprecedented It's a chip of the old block and a step up the new ladder.
Mr. Scribe, I write to you pen and penchant aimed to pour over a fool left with no more rhymes I'm poeticlly franchised.
I'm in charge for the day in terminal wanderlust I've excited my worst thoughts exorcised what was lost am i a bad seed sprouting up or am i not?
I'm sure what sad is But listless i'm not my lists are never ending and my emotions aren't store-bought and tears, they either decieve or endure me I'm your little golden nugget collecting dust Bored with my own stale and directed thoughts In a place where so much life and loves abound It's amazing how little tempts me from my glass house.
My Glass House Lyrics performed by Swingin Utters are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that My Glass House Lyrics performed by Swingin Utters is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD