Remember back when, all the money that I had spent,
Even all the lies that you said, and the truth told but were bent,
I can’t forget you, you are embedded in my vault of deception,
For all of your false conceptions of truth made me only remember you.
I show up to the event my lights are all bright,
Sipping on that holy water and swag is on tight,
I am ripping christmas carols in the booth all day and all night,
On the seventh day I rest, it’s also my birthday and things are alright.
‘British Food’ exemplifies Paul Biddle’s witty art photography (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
What is a world without words? Can it be replaced with photos?
If a picture is valued as a thousand words, Shall we live life through them?
We pose, we snap, we create, and our words have meaning in which we share,
We cherish photos as we cherish words, for they showcase life, art, moments as memories.
I may be tipsy but I am surely not drunk,
Don’t you dare trying to game me, I might have to pop the trunk,
There is no coming back from what I have in store,
What I got they don’t even check for at the door.
Snooping through my phone whenever I aint home,
Looking for a bone she can find, so at my head it can thrown,
I am so lucky she my ex for my life would be really stress,
Better yet or I guess worse thing is, she very hard for me to forget.
My cup is filled to the top, I take a shot of drank to the head and I won’t stop,
I feel the world moving around me, I try to catch it but keeps turning non-stop,
My taste buds explode from the contents of my drink, mind blown I can’t really think,
I pour and pour to refill, I want to be faded, I keep it going like a chain, linked.