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Such Lazy Saturday Poetry It’s Sunday (Bleeding Inc.)

After making a big fuss about how I was going to post my poetry every Saturday because it’s the easiest thing I write and I have plenty of it, it’s been about a month since I’ve done one. Ugh. Do your job Charlie. Anyways, I missed yesterday, but I figured by posting one today I’ll get myself back in the mindset to remember to post next Saturday… and the Saturday after that… and the Saturday after that, etc.

So for todays installment I’m going to post the lyrics to what I’d consider to be one of the best — if not the best — song I’ve ever written.  It’s called “Bleeding Inc.” If my technologically incompetent self can ever figure out how to post videos from my flip cam on this blog, I’ll post a performance of the song itself, but for now, here are the lyrics.

Bleeding Inc.

Verse I

Twelve generations of pain, thirteen is prayin sayin let this be the day that the saints march our way

It’s a good Friday for swimming to the finer side of things, we call for rain to get the floodgates bursting

And you can say, that endurance is a song I’ll never sing

But the rhythm never stops when it comes to lions like me

We’ve got those everlasting chest beats

Chorus I

And we will shatter mirrors, and see through smoke

That came from the flames always burnin up our jeans

So let me cheer you up, like real good news

It’s not too soon to be free from the things that the devil tattooed on you

Verse II

Time bombs for clock shops it was hotter than sriracha when Big Ben went up in flames and got the bridges burning

The violent silence of writing, stabbin my pen through the wall tryin to get to the heart of the message I bring

I just wanna stop, stop stop,

I need the moment to pop, pop, pop

That the reason for the shots shots shots shot shots shots shots shots shots

And you can say, let the drinks spill like blood in a war scene

But the battle never stops when it comes to soldiers like me

We’ve got those everlasting chest beats

Oh don’t ya know we’ve got that never endin’ head flow

Chorus II

And we will shatter mirrors, and see through smoke

That came from the flames always burnin’ up our jeans

But let me cheer you up, like real good news

It’s not to late to be called by the name of the Christ inside of you

Oh don’t ya know, we’re the coolest kids

But son, you should know, gotta cool it kid

Bridge/Outro

We’re the coolest kids, walkin around, we like our beat down low and our feet to the ground

Don’t ya show it kid, that hurt in your eyes, I can’t talk right now I got my pride on the line

Can’t talk right now I got my pride on the line

Can’t talk right now I got my pride on the line

Can’t talk right now I got my pride on the line

 

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About ananiasgo

Charles Westerman is a freelance writer, songwriter, school bus driver and murder mystery theater actor living in Portland, Oregon. He grew up on a ranch in Chugwater, Wyoming as the youngest of five kids and graduated from Washington State University with a degree in Journalism and English Lit. in May 2012. In between driving his Jr. High minions back-and-forth from school, he is currently at work writing his debut literary novel, Where Heaven Meets Cheyenne and its sequel. A two-part telling of the story of his ordinary family that came together in an extraordinary way. For the past two and half years he has worked to tell this story with honesty, excellence and honor to the characters who made it possible.

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