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letra de vent - the b.o.m.

[verse 1: b.o.m]
maybe a little longer i thought
i decided ,but i didn’t want to
so i didn’t decide to decide
i just decided
my typical mundane paradigm of a life
inconspicuous to these emotional vigilantes
scoundrels to me
parasites,but beautiful and selfish
preying on broken pieces of porcelain because
they too need st-tching
life is an endless distraction
death comes from focus
from knowledge,from truth
the world is not the most righteous of places
this life, is not the best medium of travel
said an eleven-year-old boy
the timid shrewdness of a spoiled brat
i lived as a young baby
but grew to be an elderly teen
what if? my brain murmurs
my mind burps in wonder
what if?
what if i was normal?
what if my first kiss was my last ?
my last love was my first?
abuse didn’t raise me
and blood didn’t bathe me
what if time was as open and parallel
as a pencil-scribed book
easily paged,easily erased,easily re-written
i choose to love
the stupid act of loving
is more sane
and with the love came sacrifice
and with sacrifice,investment
and with investment,obsession
obsession, i have found is the
ultimate form of love
it is the only one where the subject is honest to themselves
and not an audience
obsession,when -n-lyzed is the truest form
of affection
and when matured,ridden
of all the naivete of young love

[bridge: noxie]
the black me
the happy me
the free me
the blessed me
(the blessed me,the blessed me)
oppression comes in plenty
i can’t breathe
i am surprised
break me free from the chains that are binding me
i can nearly breathe
(can nearly breathe)
i can nearly be where i wanna be
(i can nearly be where i wanna be)
where i wanna be
(where i wanna be)

[verse 2: bom]
(yeah,where i wanna be)
can you duck pain?
trust me
i tried removing lip stuck stains
they won’t go
another young buck slain
the copycat that posted lyrical poems in your face
book that and get 407 days of gods calendar
postponed to see your face
i’m glad you finally got a break
the type of break that break baby hearts in the womb
the type that need a mother son fed

[verse 3: b.o.m]
what is more beautiful, my love?
love lost or love found?
don’t laugh at me, my love
i know it, i’m awkward and naive
when it comes to love
and i ask questions straight out of a pop song
doubt overwhelms me and undermines me, my love
to find or to lose?
all around me, people don’t stop yearning
did they lose or did they find?
i can’t say
an orphan has no way of knowing
an orphan lacks a first love
a love for his mama and papa
that’s the source of his awkwardness and his naivete
you said to me, in that deserted place
in that beautiful town
“you can touch my leg”
but i didn’t do it. there, my love, is love lost
that’s why i’ve never stop wondering
since that day: where have you been?
and where you are now?
and you, shining gleam of my misspent youth
did you lose or did you find?
i don’t know
i will never know
i can’t even remember your name, my love
and i don’t have the answer
but this is how i like to imagine it, the answer
in the end, my love
we have no choice. we have to find

- the b o m

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