Black Sheep
Sam Keeble
Keep on pushin' away
Critique of The Seeds wakes me at 3
I feel them every day
They can't see how I think
They reign over me
They always find me in dreams
Wranglin' me only to insult our living
So ungrateful
Lazy and selfish, projecting-type folk
As I am I, I do claim
Crazy and spiteful
The wrath of a bad brain
I feel everything
Never quite fit like Thoreau in the city
I am abided to blame
The overused quilt of the empath slave
Keep on pushin' away
Black Sheep
