Unt. 20

Say what, I'm back on my grind. I left a cold front without keepin' track of the time. As the clock keeps spinnin' I get a knack for the course of the mind. Of course there's more source for the lines. Facin' no remorse, dustin' the bad off, left behind. Turnin' my left cheek, you are what you seek, I'm fine. A neighborhood one sealer, had my time with the known force, done dealed her. More coarse than a brand of reds, corpse stealer. Port polish, boat reeler. Gettin' caught up in the day to day court fees ughh. I'll be the one to row forth, conceal nerves. I'm battlin' an old me, dodgin' a fast one for the curve.