There’s a song out that I really like with Diddy featuring Skylar Grey, called “Coming Home.” I was inspired to add a verse to it.
Here’s Skylar’s chorus for it:
I’m coming home
I’m coming home
Tell the World I’m coming home
Let the rain wash away
all the pain of yesterday
I know my kingdom awaits
and they’ve forgiven my mistakes
I’m coming home, I’m coming home
Tell the World that I’m coming
Is that great, or what? So, I imagined my own verse, as the theme of this song is so fitting…
I’m comin home, I’ve been a fugitive, avoidin the music biz
even tho before I was born
I was recruited for it, absorbin the scorn of Lucifer, it’s
been gettin harder to barter my future for this
unusual forces against me, brutal distortions to tempt me
my boot on the doorstep of the enemy
right before his neck, there is no life before death
if there was you couldn’t enlighten, only forget
alotta practice – in SWAT tactics – and kickin doors down
that were meant to be shut, sensible slut – at livin for now
for bills, for debt, for thrills, for sex
I’m bored still, more or less, you’re still born dead
dreams that were meant to be kings, assassinated
then resurrected – with several seconds – of imagination
I got a tumor that’s inoperable
it’s called ill humor with bein logical, the funeral of the doctor will
soon follow the doctor’s bill, I’m consumed with optical
illusions of a prophet’s flow – profittin huge metropolises
I shunned rap, didn’t wanna become that, how dumb was that?
just did not like – the spotlight, under wraps
didn’t understand – that my purpose was to become a lamp
not under a bushel, I’m makin suckers my footstools
don’t discard your dreams, you don’t have to be normal
why are you arguing? you don’t have to have em support you
I’m Charlie Sheen, I am not your average mortal
it has been foretold, I’m not a rapper I’m an oracle
the faith of a four year old – after losin faith in a four year old
fantasy, I’m sorry for deprivin all future fans of me
thinkin I’d gotten grown, when the truth is I’m not at home
not in my zone, not on my throne, copyin drones
at fault – for actin adult, retarded Pavlov’s dog
repeatedly, delete it please, the past’s all gone
no more missed opportunities
no more livin not to be too unique, gifted by God musically
no more consideration – of statements – of profit loss
I’d gotten lost – by not listenin to Robert Frost
about the one less traveled – of possible country roads
it’s the sunset of average, the prodigal’s comin home…
© 2011 Paul Will Prevail
Here’s the song:
Great chorus! Great song. You know, there’s a lot of really inspirational music comin out about achievin your dreams, havin faith in yourself, and so forth. Seems to be gatherin momentum and overtakin the BS. For awhile I couldn’t even turn on the radio without wanting to rupture someone’s spleen. Cycles. Goes down, goes up.
PREVAIL OUT (Just gettin warmed up)