Child's Play

With sweat dripping down the tips of your hair, and a contraction in your fist as each folics swings like a chyme.
Every time the drum drops, your heart has to complement the rythem, just wait until the end of the metal being swindled.
Hold your breath and desire for the chorus to bash your head in the air.
Blood won't disperse but these lyrics seem to make your heart feeble.
I don't have the will to show you the chords; if you find the way then come and find me.
You've been held down by bass and controlled by the beat; down on your knees at your own game.
Don't be too optimistic, you were never a player anyway.
Salutations to the crowed and swing your hands in the air and hope this song doesn't die.
Start moving those feet, every step you take is too fast for these glossy eyes to see; every second will count this time.
Don't scream the lyrics, your throat might be bleeding from the words and facts from the previous night.
Alcohol won't save you now, every last breath I took never lull your taste buds, it will only rip them at their seems.
The only difference this time is that you're not listening, you're not even anticipating the last note; the demise to your living.
Take another moment to waltz, all the time in the world has been given to you, but you preferred to keep the four minutes of adrenalin.
It's careless to tell you to be careful, because the words being yelled out tonight will hit the very concrete that burst my shins.
Broken fingers will drench the keyboard when the piano starts crying its apathetic lullabies.
Each ivory key will never vilify the lack of blood in your face; stone cold insults drop my eyes.
There isn't any need for my eyes, nor my ears, I'll know my piece was done well when you're on the floor.
Take that last breath and make it deep, because it's going to expel itself for a more deserving being.