Foo Fighters
Foo Fighters
Good Grief
since I’m putting down all
of the true things around but I like it
I handed down the crown
given the jewels and the answers of may
the thought of being ousted comes and goes
when I think about it the wind blows
I hate it
run me out of town
somewhere a move might intended a gown at
pissed at all the bowels
always the blues and a delicate smile
missed all of the sideways
gull and noun
chills and petty band-aids
wrapped around
I hate it