Today there was a clown spotted dancing on a table due to the belief that he had nothing else to bring to it/
The passerbys chuckled and snorted and tonight he'll sing to it/
Attention to fill the void is his theme music/
Empty acclaim, yeah sure he knew it, but that doesn't mean he won't keep doin' it/
Psuedo intellectual who thinks he's special/
Writes a self depricating meta poem like his intentions are undetectable/
Thinks now that he's called himself out it's all of a sudden respectable/
He thinks fast yet lives slow, how ironic/
He has no dream to acheive, he just wants to be iconic/
Anything less would be astronomic/
So badly wants it, never tries, so sad he don't got it/
Some days he wakes up and tries to find piece from within/
Each time unbenounced to him he quickly realizes this is a battle he won't win/
His will power is paper thin/
Looks at people and sees nothing but skin as if right here in front of him is the only place they've ever been/
He's back and forth with the self hate and self love, like he's playing ping pong with his ego/
He knows these new found credos, the meaty burritos, the eyes of the people, they're all just placebos/
Some day he'll accept it all, maybe miday during the growth of fall it'll come to him at the best and worst time, he'll enscroll on the bathroom stall wall/
When I write I'm kinda like who I want to be and who I really am/
I Glorify this guy named Cam/
Facts stretched to fit the concept/
But sometimes that doesn't fit my honest rep/
Charismatic introvert/
Labelled a jerk/
Got all these funny quirks/
I make it work/
So blessed but still a mess/
Looking for a distraction from my lack of/
Even if I just had some flashback love/
If you don't get it then you won't so don't fret it/
Watch the trees, focus on the leaves, how they move in the breeze/
When they talk about the small things it's these/
Locked lids and clenched fists/
If you need a pick me up think of life like this/
You're the painter and the painting/
Or the writer and the writing, it's the same thing/
Turning life into art can be lame but/
Sometimes the heart needs a little make up/
A mask to hide behind to give you time until you find your shine/
Even if you don't find the end of the tunnel, it was fun still/
I wanna thank all gods I don't believe in for this opportunity/
I know you get a lot of scrutiny/
Plus I always make such a fuss and such/
But you rad savours did me bad favours/
Gave me an inch and now I want a mile/
I must have this and I must have that/
I want all that good shit in fact/
All the birds, no stones/
No work, only the perks of being grown/
Good deeds with selfish motives/
No one notices/
Simple life, sinful pleasures, that's where my focus is/
Eat mostly cuz I like the taste/
When you're this full finishing the whole plate is still such a waste/
Blizzards with Rolos and Oreos you know how the story goes/
But I suppose it's about time I stopped to smell this rose/
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FINAL IMMUNITY:
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