same songs


i listen to the same songs,
hope i hear ’em different

doesn’t matter what musician,
put myself in their position
and rock the fuck out

grab the mic and sing the same shit,
lookin’ out at my family and friends,
they’re screamin’.

every word that i say
reflects the mood of the day,
beat beat beating different meanin’

i be aggressive like,
grip the mic, scan the crowd,
“if you’re not dancing,
then get the fuck out”

they’d be impressed,
like, “this kid is the best”

encore encore,
open my car door,
drop the mic,
curtains close,
concert ends,
flowers thrown

listen to the same songs,
throwin’ different shows.
listen to the same songs,
hope i hear ’em grow.
listen to the same songs,
watch me sing the same shit,
same kid, same trip, same whip
same script

“same songs”
©Steven Cuenca

 

 

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