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| Topic: Fugitive | |
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Edited by
shapirobo
on
Wed 01/02/13 12:40 PM
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by Bo Kibiwot on Monday, 22 February 2010 at 23:26 ·
What can I do? When everything is so wrong And I think I’m about to fall; It seems easier to run But what if its everyone on my heels Trying to bring me down? It’s like running from the sun There’s just no where to hide, Unless I lock myself in the darkness; But in the dark I see evils cold eyes staring at me. What can I say? When I’ve been caught red handed; ‘it wasn’t me, I was just at the wrong place?” Would they believe my story? While everything is printed on, my name. What’s the use of the law If it cannot protect us, victims of mistaken identities As we are branded ‘outlaws? This leaves me no choice I have to be a fugitive I have to forget everyone I know I have to forget my home, To be a runaway from the law. What’s there to tell? My life is a living hell; Always looking over my shoulder, You can’t be sure who’s following you, how can I be safe? My face on every newspaper On wanted posters ‘alive or dead’ A price on my head |
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this is some seriously deep **** to be mixed up in, bo, another very interesting read...
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by Bo Kibiwot on Monday, 22 February 2010 at 23:26 · What can I do? When everything is so wrong And I think I’m about to fall; It seems easier to run But what if its everyone on my heels Trying to bring me down? It’s like running from the sun There’s just no where to hide, Unless I lock myself in the darkness; But in the dark I see evils cold eyes staring at me. What can I say? When I’ve been caught red handed; ‘it wasn’t me, I was just at the wrong place?” Would they believe my story? While everything is printed on, my name. What’s the use of the law If it cannot protect us, victims of mistaken identities As we are branded ‘outlaws? This leaves me no choice I have to be a fugitive I have to forget everyone I know I have to forget my home, To be a runaway from the law. What’s there to tell? My life is a living hell; Always looking over my shoulder, You can’t be sure who’s following you, how can I be safe? My face on every newspaper On wanted posters ‘alive or dead’ A price on my head This is deep . . . as is most of your work. I'm impressed |
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this is some seriously deep **** to be mixed up in, bo, another very interesting read...
Hehehe Deep **** |
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by Bo Kibiwot on Monday, 22 February 2010 at 23:26 · What can I do? When everything is so wrong And I think I’m about to fall; It seems easier to run But what if its everyone on my heels Trying to bring me down? It’s like running from the sun There’s just no where to hide, Unless I lock myself in the darkness; But in the dark I see evils cold eyes staring at me. What can I say? When I’ve been caught red handed; ‘it wasn’t me, I was just at the wrong place?” Would they believe my story? While everything is printed on, my name. What’s the use of the law If it cannot protect us, victims of mistaken identities As we are branded ‘outlaws? This leaves me no choice I have to be a fugitive I have to forget everyone I know I have to forget my home, To be a runaway from the law. What’s there to tell? My life is a living hell; Always looking over my shoulder, You can’t be sure who’s following you, how can I be safe? My face on every newspaper On wanted posters ‘alive or dead’ A price on my head Thanks M... This is deep . . . as is most of your work. I'm impressed |
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