Mark Twain

I was never on my way to the queen, but if all the New York detectives tried to save me, it would be a waste cuz I’m only a stolen white elephant.

I bet whoever tried to tell my story, would end up joining the police force next, I’m not a million pound banknote oh I’m really not, I’m just the person sitting in darkness.

Sometimes I feel like it’s back in antebellum, all this division got me hating myself. And I’m upset with my life, as I’m confused as hell, why do we have to do things certain ways? Plenty of options but it seems there’s not, next I’ll be judged and spat upon for something I did. Things never ease up in this world of pain, so now you’ll catch me writing lyrics relating to Mark Twain.

So many people gambled on me like Jim Smiley’s frog, but I can’t jump to impress, I’m filled with quail shot. Oh Mississippi River, ever changing nature, they’ll train me to pilot my own steam boat.

Why do we look at certain things like European landmarks, we stare in awe and admiration for them, sometimes it’s feeling like I’m just an innocent abroad, at least my father’s not like Huckleberry Finn’s.

Sometimes I feel like it’s back in antebellum, all this division got me hating myself. And I’m upset with my life, as I’m confused as hell, why do we have to do things certain ways? Plenty of options but it seems there’s not, next I’ll be judged and spat upon for something I did. Things never ease up in this world of pain, so now you’ll catch me writing lyrics relating to Mark Twain.

Once upon a time about a few mistakes ago, I was in the crosshairs and I never let go, damn I need a therapist lucky I got the best, but I still cannot seem to get it all off of my chest. I wish I could let it go, not hate myself, I wish I could be ok, but I’m not yo, gonna take a lot of years, just for me to still break. You think it’s post Covid but this was all before it babe.

I’m just glad it’s not back in antebellum, all this division got me thinking we were. I’m still upset with my life, as I’m confused as hell, why do we have to do things certain ways? I though I had options but it seems that I do not, or else I’ll be judged and spat upon for something I did. Things might never ease up in this world of pain, so until then I’ll be writing lyrics relating to Mark Twain.