Feel a Piece of Alright  

Sunday night  
And the minutes dive deeper.  
I stay awake.  
Too much given,  
So much lost,  
And I bet  
I can make it worth  
Something 
Before the knock of the reaper.  

Keep nights alive,  
Don't let in the horrors of tomorrow.  
I’ve been running on substantial, 
Individual good,  
Chasing smiles, and I’m beginning to believe  
That people like to encounter sorrow.   

I lived hard, 
Same as my pants pocket rod,  
full, and death is inevitable.  
My heart loved the whole time  
And I lost so many cherished faces  
That I came to my realization. 

We are running to die,  
And nothing is savored,  
We are checklists,  
White-people food:  
Tasteless.