Paths Chosen

Visualize, what these visual eyes have yet to show me

I wish I could see those old friends, but they're laying beneath the 40

33, god damn, just hope I can make it to 40

Cause I've caused so much damage, that my body is singing the oldies

No longer the old me, I cashed in, on change that rang in my pocket

I had to switch up, so I won't be a picture inside a locket

I plotted, then planted the seed, just watched my roots grip

Powdered my hands, I reached for the bar, no longer a loose grip

Let the noose slip, closed fist, pressure upon my chest

Heart, ready to give out, who is next to contest