You’re the boss, applesauce.
In all your self-aggrandizing materialistic glory.
But, you’re boring and you know it.
You’ve never taken a risk, a chance, a leap of faith.
You hide behind your money like a wall.
Like if you let go, you’d fall.
Like, you’re in prison and you get one call and you dial George, Abe, Alex and Andrew.
You’re getting a busy signal, the call’s just not going through.
So, you try Grant and Ben like they give a shit…like you put your faith in something materialistic.
The substance is gone as if it was ever even there and you leave all your loved ones in the dust, like a fund is the only thing that you trust.
Like the only love you ever had was found inside that first paycheck and spent on a dinner, movie and a hand job from some girl in high school.
Maybe you can learn…
Maybe I could teach…
But your ego’s too inflated and your heads out of reach.
I need a stepladder for your throne.
Work is the only place you’ve ever truly felt home.
I’ll leave you alone…I know a lost cause when I see one.
I’ll go be a lawyer, buy a benz and “earn” your love.
Like a son with money is a son with respect and wisdom.
"Ah, wisdom" …That old fucking phrase.
You use it as a crutch because you’ve seen “worse days”.
Just because you’ve been alive doesn’t mean you’ve been living it.
We can’t see eye to eye unless I buy some stilts and my funds are a little tied up right now.
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