Fighting Fish
Swimming in a snifter
Pretty as a picture
Don't get it twisted man her right is a bitch
You can name, you can keep 'em
But take care when you feed her
You never can take the fight out the fish
Chomping at the drill bit
Never want to still sit
You can touch my metal with a magnet and some tin snips
Ink test all I see is cannons and some wing tips
Pilot pen in pocket I'm writing in ink jets
Around here we don't like talk of big dreams
To stand out is a pride of conceit
To aim high is to make waves to split seams
But that's not what it seems like to me
I wanna try I wanna risk
And I don't wanna walk rather swing and a miss
I'm not above apologies but I don't ask permissions
Got a lot of imperfections but I don't carry my ambition in them
Zeno's arrow never hits the mark
It's always hanging there over its shadow
Safe from battle, waste of archer's time and trouble
Waste of effort, waste of parts
If you don't aim for the center it's a waste of the art
I didn't come looking for love
I didn't come to pick a fight
I didn't come to wave or take pictures
To some benefactor ring on every broken finger
Or extends my wings to get clipped
I know the culture here is to stay humble but shit
If we all go round bowed heads
If never none of us go for the belt who wins
My mother says I've loved too many men
But I took and left something in every bed
Turns his head
The night might rise up investigate the grid
Bend the genre, I guess I'm on one
Both the constructs
Women, children let me tell I've been both
And it's a myth we all swim for the life boats
I didn't come looking for love
I didn't come looking for a fight
I come here every night to work
And you can pick an
Zeno's arrow never hits the mark
It's always hanging there over its shadow
Safe from battle, waste of archer's time and trouble
Waste of effort, waste of parts
If you don't aim for the center it's a waste of the art
Self taught, self made,then self styled
Self came
We march in converse
Own tools
My joints hold steady
Chucks laced ready
I travel by kite, travel
Touchdown
I make my own luck now
Zeno's arrow never hits the mark
It's always hanging with its own shadow in the dark
It's always hanging with its own shadow in the dark
