Suitcase Xylophone

Packed my desires in fancy luggage

Threw it in the hungry easy coast ocean


These things I’ve been caring about are trash.


Can not believe I lived wanting their attention

Felt incomplete unless I got my wants filled

I was high with an anvil in each hand

Oh the pressure weights of ignorance and sin

Pack my understanding give it a place to swim

Far away from my heart I’m done, I’m not taking anymore trips with dead-end accommodations.


Tag my bags, the same old rubbish

Name, middle-aged fool baby drool

Maturity, let’s have some tea and speak seriously

Open my eyes, cut off old ties, two tickets to wisdom square


Scrub until my heart is clean like momma washing clothes in the tub stubborn blue jeans

Drop former pursuits, rotten covered in death dying roots

Introduce oxygen, haven’t been alive in so long, hello wind.

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