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IN THE TUNNEL





I am a cautious optimist,

Too much disappointment in the world has taught me to be careful with how I love and how I hope,

It is easy to be fake but harder to be real in a jungle full of beasts it is a wonder how I cope,
Friend, foe and stranger alike all come with intentions to shop through my soul up until I drop,

Some of them want me to breathe my last so they could say I was good peoples, many times they tried to break me and many times they flop,

See I was born to be great even though at times the depressions are greater, still I must mount each and every slope,

And even to my last day I'll stay up, haunting their fake asses as I look up through my hearse,

In ten days The Last Will and Testament will be in every ear, realer than anything I ever made through the years, there is no time to rehearse,

Meanwhile I be planting flowers and cementing my deceased triplets' grave solo: even though they rest it's still a fresh dagger to the heart,

On those hungry days I satisfy my mind with visions of vengeance and humaneness alike, my essence torn between molten wax and hard ballast,

And when I have nothing to eat I eat wisdom from books and internet pages; remembering that the future is better than the past,

In recent times they have robbed me and left me broke, and all this shit they spoke still the pain keeps me woke,

I even had to learn to fake orgasms in the line of duty with every shitty stroke,
The music and the divine skills I got granted by the most high though: I could sing and rap for days and never choke,

I am that one rejected cornerstone, the underrated bloke just like an unwanted block,
Some call me Decibelle, some call me Alshaverb and these are some of the truest words I ever wrote.

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