a storm, a town, a little boy and a budd

Today I started the morning pretty damn well

Painting me some beautiful piece of work

Then reading a bit of that WorldWarHulk

Making some fresh lyrics during the break

Solving those equations with a side of nap

Seeing a balding person that has wisdom

Accidentally killing a person's nice phone

Practicing my sweet basketball handling skills

Gelin' my hand for that sanitizer of Jose's

Fuck this puffenin up shit....

A quick nasty storm took over

So quick that you didn't know it had come

You saw signs but the weatherman is usually wrong

So you ignored the weatherman

That's a no no mister afro

When the storm was done, it had ravaged everything

Built by the people with their hearts

Took so long to stand the houses and the barns and the square and the such

All that work down in such a tear

What a sad sight that was displayed

In the middle of all this mess was a little boy

The boy was holding something in his hands

A rosebudd that he had managed to save from the storm

It was a small budd though

It wasn't the prettiest either

But a rosebudd was still a rosebudd no matter what

That little boy took in that budd but is still confused

He doesn't know what to do with the budd

Should he plant it in the wreck?

Should he go and just wonder for a grown rose already?

Or just forget having a rose all together?

There is no ends