I saw a straight line
but walked a crooked path
as the road was full of tarmac
I put my feet on grass
I walk a straight line
I’ve had enough of grass
as no dally filled my stomach
I put my feet on glass
I’ll make a buck soon
call it this is living
but will I end up finding out
grass was more forgiving
I kinda think not
call me all believing
in Aftermath I did write once
things can be deceiving
I kinda think so
the colour though is green
surviving 39 the one
you want is green obscene