walk

Well the years start by, with a constant laugh, most people try to hurry, I just walk my ass, to what ever might come and make each walk my last, now what do you suppose would be the cost of that?

I hear grown folks talkin that important talk, in a hurry to get to the places that I walk, their faces all strained mine smudged with chalk, face pressed to an outline while they stand and gawk

I sure do hope that I can notice hope, even thought my eyes burn through all the blue smoke, feel like I've had my fill but with my will I won't, I'll never see the day that I'm a leave it alone