The Rabid Luck Of The Hare Owen's foot

Oh my, how I never truly could understand why you would want to feel down on yourself    
   
To me, it was all about feeling a little more of the pro's to things like getting ahead of your game    
   
So why? Clouds should bring you up to level nine instead of descending into a money pit couch coffin wealth    
   
Do me, like a Russian thats spun in a roulette of fun revolving around and mislead by voices so faint    
   
Don't cry, over spilt clear powdered milk and raise hell instead of weeping for a fix underweighting as you grip tighter the belt    
   
Induce me, you haven't a clue that I do these before and without you around gullibly "unconscious branding" a saint    
   
So fly, with your feathering obliques showcasing your bones like what are those?! crocks doing on an anorexic peacock from hell    
   
Seducing, the youth may not be your choosing but your the connect and pussy is pussy the longer the wait    
   
Suffice, to the habits and forget the bear necessities they're simple to replace with a Spanish dos of the devils water dip in the well    
   
Concluding, illusion of friendships that ended and even now more confusing to what we were doing flirting with gangs, I got stalked and you got a cage for your hair Owen...I'm not a sellout like you and the junkyard gang of a plague, you might of played me, but your retarded and chose your unfortunate fate