That's why I'm stuck here alone;
But for some reason it's the only thing around smelling sweet like cologne
After all this pain my hearts like a cyclone;
But that doesn't mean there's no room left in there for you to roam.
Pick your damn head up. Look in the mirror, your full grown.
Gets your hands off your eyes, with all those bitches and moans.
I don't know about you, but I'm headed for the thrown;
Could it be because I feel creation in every single one of my bones?
Or because I realize these are my skills to hone?
It's okay if you want to a drone;
But me I'd rather be privatley flown;
Nothing to do with the money. It's way more about being all alone in my safe zone.
Since I was about twelve, I knew what I wanted to be an artist. I always knew I would push for my goal, because after my father died he always told me to chase my goals. Plus, I felt like I had nothing left, but my own brain. Luckily, I now have a beautiful girlfriend who loves me dearly, as well as many friends around me. I'm in a bit of a rush, but my point is I honed most of my creativity through loneliness.