Words Will Be The Death Of Me

Y’all stay lyin’, stay tryin’ to please all the masses,
Forgetting that sooner or later they’ll all show their asses
And you’ll wish, when that happens,
That you’d paid more attention to the chances
That were offered you on a silver platter
Before you ended up like the mad hatter:
Lonely in a prison of your own making
Because you forgot that to some of us words matter.

This life, she is complicated and divine
And of all her gifts the most fine is the gift of choice:
You get to decide how to use your voice.
If you’re not choosing me that’s fine but do you ever stop to think,
When you do the things you do,
That one day I might stop choosing you?

The problem with falling in love with words —
And if nothing else, Lord let this be heard —
Is that speakers forget what they say
And then you spend many a long day
Holding onto the dust of dreams (I’m sorry, but that shit ain’t okay).
If you’re going to speak then please don’t be weak:
Say what you mean, mean what you say,
Anything else is just unnecessary cheek.

And you who falls in love at the drop of noun + verb,
You can have a seat or move in reverse.
Calm down, slow down, seriously, stop playing the clown.
Your job is to protect your heart and frankly
If it’s words that get you open,
You suck at playing guard.
-Beauty’s Daughter


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