My grandma speaks of my younger brother
Like the golden child
Says he picked the right route
Because he serves coffee to yuppies
And saved twenty grand in the bank
I have twenty cents to my name
Dredge up shrapnel to buy new art supplies
And I sketch illustrations in blood
To make sense of it all
The paper can take my weight
My ex lover never could
She speaks of our relationship
Like an unbalanced seesaw
Says she tried and I didn’t
I’ll throw a dictionary at her
So the definition of “try”
Can slap her in the face
My mother believes in my creations
Like the way god freaks believe in creationism
Says I can change the world if I want to
Alter perceptions by giving them my guts
Never been one to hold a grudge
But I’m going to show them
Success is a sweet revenge


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