The Truth in the booth

been tryna connect dots with the stars in the sky,

and if we all stars, then am wondering why,

i aint shinning bright, or did they turn a blind eye,

when i wrote, should have felt like the fourth of July.

pondering, who taught young birds how to fly,

is he stacking up a skill or is he too lazy to try?

its would be amazing if i, let sleeping dogs lie,

to tell the truth, in the booth, am trying to trace my roots,

sometimes i get crazy like a psyco on the loose,

got some nuts loosed, but i aint screwed,

am loony, looking for some of that rabbit food

that's compensation for the hell I've been through.