Week 23 My Repressed Former Self

The heart of me is notes on a measuring scale/ In a raincoat, umbrella, weathering hell/ And whether I fail, is beside the message/ With a book of regrets and some second guesses / Went to bed with that injury, that'da been the end of me/ one last lullaby sung so tenderly/ Looking eye level, death in the pupil/ Day away from Church and from seeing the pews filled/ Kind words, tears, and that's all she wrote/ One final prayer and to the dirt I go/ You ever faced that?/Outright forced to face fact/Wake up to IV's, your split up parents/ Looking down like your a corpse, won't quit staring/ Ask what you need... so sentimental/And you reply a pen, paper and a instrumental/ Just cheated death and you just wanna write/ Beat bump between vomiting all through the night/Now tell me what you know about dedication?/ Not in the stratosphere of the specification/ Severed brain nerve endings, and sixteen measures/ Puking hurts, but them bars? Pristine pleasure/ Middle finger wagging through the blitzkrieg weather/ G-d shined on me, I do the sixteen better/