Stop bragging of things
Of which you have not won
Stop strutting your way
Down the street you don’t own
You are the king
to everyone
but your own crown
You are “the winner”
To all the losers
You are the star
But you aren’t running the show.
You talk as if you owned this place
You talk as if you were the one
You yell at everyone what to do
And you don’t understand how to do it.
Remember, You were never a king
I saw you stumbling down that street afraid
Remember, You were never a god
I saw you try to strut and trip
I was the one who brought you where you are
I was the one who listened to your dreams.
I was the one who taught you how to fall
And how to get back up again.
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In this Memoir of the dead, listen to my rhymes of dread.
Tales be happy, tales be sad, Tales be nice, tales be bad.
Run away if your wish, I assure you, you will not be missed
Tales be happy, tales be sad, Tales be nice, tales be bad.
Run away if your wish, I assure you, you will not be missed
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