#ricoSacto

Tuesday, August 06, 2019

#DontBlameMe cuz! #ItAintMyFaultEither #WhatYouKnowAboutThat?

 #EyeCanFixThat
OLD NEWS WAS NEW, I’M HIPPO
by
ssssssssssss AINT MY FAULT Y'ALL sssssssssssss
Fortune has little or nothing to do with the form and shape of things, whiskey glass close
To me and to you, to both of us, our lives are locked into this mystery we’ve gestated O’s
From all of the X’s we’ve become a tic-cat-toe brick-a-back and the absolute Will rules us
In your eyes into your mind, the light and sound waves are the hooks, to addict the crews.

On the Good Ship Lollipop or the USS Enterprise, points and tallies make you scream One
Which is all that really counts in the long and the short run, evolution or devolution, my son
Nothing matters and it’s been scratched, etched into the stones of the remnants of big bangin’
Gang bangin’ has nothin’ to do with #Sharks and the #Jets, no need to worry, we be sinnin’.

But when all the smoke clears out of the homeroom and the windows are shut forever, OMG
That children Catholic school in Chicago, Our Lady of Angels, Northwest side of angels’ grief
Never saw the sky after that last ride on the bus or drop off from mama and papa, gone mojo
Mothers and fathers lived their lives full of grief forever, never to dig anything but grave, go!

You don’t want to know the rest of the stories, the pain and suffering, depression of moms
Helped by neighbors and friends but never to chase away the tragedy, Jesus, y’all chasin’ you
Callin’ your name to explain all of the burnin’ shots of whiskey goin’ down daddies’ in slums
‘cause the wax burned the wood faster than grease on hot ash, forever God turned #95 so blue!

Forever from the first to the last breath of here it goes, my love falls up and down in a hot fire
Grades of school from elementary to the university, taught few words, one thought, I love you
Been a good old boy worth my weight in gold, my love shines like the ore before it was leader
Transformed in the way of the warriors born to the women who kicked their but, screw who?

Telecommunication from the womb to the tomb, noon til three or any other time of the revolt
Around in the circle spins around the burnin’ holy light of the darkness, God, my star of sons
Hey now, let’s not get all religious and chit like that, believing where the hehl are Hades guns
Cold beer, mama and papa at the picnic with the cousins, aunts and uncles, all hit home runs!

Just got lucky to be in the family of the city full of bad smells from the day I’s born to be free
I brought the genes they gave me to the DNA farm of California, after a Texas-Montana row
Dreamed I was drivin’ down the road lookin’ for the way to the party, dropped my phone low
To pick it up was the error of life, last second, last words, look up at the head-on, #PoorMe!

by
r j j stephan, i *header is #NatalieWood, don’t ask any #Hippo questions!
c. August 5th, 2019 A.D. @ 11:11:11 PM PST LUNDI SOIR
{ SCRATCHED this little ditty into the DNA tonight while listenin’ to Morganwallen #IfIKnowMe #ICouldUseALittleRain on youTube link @https://youtu.be/o92I3m0i_QE }
W.W.A.R.D.?

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