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After counting all the chips that you have lost
do you still want all those people cheating?
Giving up on those who are fraught
with all impending doom-like self-defeatings
They'd say:
Get a little high, boy
Get a little wise, boy
And then when once you think you've overcome
The biting stops with consideration
Smiling on the outside hides it all.
Considering all the disappointments
you've made improvements on a dime
Now a smattering of all those things you've picked up
They'd say:
Get a little high, boy
Get a little wise, boy
Moving faster than a guillotine
Shaping up keeps the vains in context.
We gotta take in all this gray. Filter out the steady stray.
Punching beats out on the wall, smashing notes out on the way.
Alarming the static.