I wear them out like old flannel,
Like tooth decay tot he enamel,
I am no longer a classified mammal,
I'm my own classification animal,
In a class all by my insane self,
Like that one mysterious book,
Nobody touched on the shelf,
I can be caged to my own chains,
I already am to my chain of thought,
I am so overwhelming and overwrought,
I am not the same but insane,
Insane like a single mom on cocaine,
Human appearance but my mind not,
Fingers and toes will eventually rot,
My thought will not, And I forgot,
From mentality to personality,
From right now till I was a little tot,
I get these dark thoughts a lot,
Not to go kill or go steal or like dirty,
But what will happen when I'm thirty?
Will I die or be a deadbeat kind of dad?
Or will it be the best time I ever had?
These thoughts do nothing but feed,
For me to have an inspiration now,
Sometimes it feels like I'm a different breed...
