A song...

Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by wibble, Jan 28, 2009.

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  1. wibble

    wibble Well-Known Member

    Song I wrote about a bank robbery

    Splatter masks running rugged, no time 4 looking back
    C4 plastic packages attached to my belt strap
    Surveillance cameras I damaged with a physical attack
    Spray holes in the ceiling, have the customers lay flat
    An unplanned heist, barged in shouting orders
    Hopping over desks, grabbing stacks of money at random
    A teller tried to act up so I fed him to the cannon
    Flashing like Canon cameras, women and children scream
    I saw a grown ass man shit on himself and pee
    But now cops surround the complex
    Used tables and chairs to barricade the entrance
    I ain’t trying’ to see a jail sentence, believe me I meant it
    Blast off on hostages/crowd outside screaming “He’s Lost It!”
    SWAT ropes through the glass ceiling, heavy artillery cartridges
    Multiple shots to my face, torso, and both arms
    Let my last breath go, but still clutch the cash in my palm…

    With the cash in my palm, my passage was calm.
    I went from asking for alms, to packing plastique napalm
    from birth, "stick ups" were the first words, the last is a psalm
    blood splashes then pause, my life flashes in response to alarms
    my performance caught on camera, then police guns clapped an applause
    envision a picture, the vision of a victim craftily drawn
    the curtains fall...the bag zip, faster than the rapid flashes
    law enforcement gadgets like wands, smoke then I disappear like magic
    thought grabbing cash and dashing would help change my address
    but the change lasted, a path of fool's gold leads to a fool's home
    in a hurry, a flurry of blasts got me past the traffic to my casket
    the strife, of living in borderline poverty could only afford confinement
    a point of crisis, but the tunnel's end was a diamond's brightness
    I saw light, the apple pie slices, but not the Pied Piper's prices.

    Last man standing wit the cash in hand, I'm ready to start blasting my cannon
    Smash the camera, ask my man to pass a banana clip, set trip, grasping my hammer
    No way I'm getting caught and doing life in jail, have to resort to sending my bitch some mail
    rather fight these snails creeping through the front door, want more, here u gonna like these shells
    suddenly my mind went deaf and blank, don’t know what happened after I left out the bank
    but I woke up wit my head next to a sink, we tried to get the Titanic doe but the rest of them sank
    looks like I was dreaming while signing my cheque with the ink
    result of mixing the ex with the dank
    its perplexing to think
    that we were caught but we never happened to rob
    we never blasted them guards
    But when I left the bank at a quarter-to-four I saw those 2 guys walk through the door
    who would known our paths would have crossed so I guess now I'll have to act on my thoughts
  2. Petal

    Petal SF dreamer Staff Member Safety & Support SF Supporter

    Thanks for sharing :hug:
  3. Epical Taylz

    Epical Taylz Well-Known Member

    i could imagine this as a song.

    its very good :hug:
  4. mdmefontaine

    mdmefontaine Antiquities Friend

    ok. wow. i couldn't help but make up the tune...as i was reading it. awesome!
  5. justafool

    justafool Well-Known Member

    A wonderfully fresh piece of writing. Very original! :biggrin:
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