I look in the mirror and what do I see? A middle age child looking back at me. Not too smart and not too cool, perfectly capable of playing the fool.
Pondering my history what was that about? A sea of contradictions enshrouded in doubt. I think too much and I kick like a mule, my mind venting questions like nuclear fuel.
And what am I to do with so much waste? The rage and the humor and the sheer bad taste? How does one exist in a senseless world? Fight it or placate it? Do I always have to rate it?
The fact that I exist is a miracle to me. My history and my journey and my family tree. So much passion and so much lust, I often wish I had the guile to disengage just for a while!
I'm driven and I'm solid, I'm soft and I'm harsh. One day I'm like the desert yet on others I'm the marsh.
To know me is to wonder what the hell was that about? I drive you halfway crazy; Is he manic or just lazy? To me that questions hazy, the answer vague and mazy. One day you think I'm barmy whilst on others you're aghast. You'll laugh and gasp with equal measure, unsure about the whole endeavor.
So that's the deal, that's just me, I'll make you laugh and sob. But when the story ends I hope you'll know I'm still just Rob.
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