once famous for his art,
in central mart.
i cant remember his name anymore.
acknowledged by the media.
the viewer.
the customer.
even the prime minister.
posted on the paper. whats his name again?
oh whatever.
then pack with some "ice" along the way.
i saw him sleeping in the walkway.
the canvas left astray.
in the middle of the streets.
back alley of chow kit.
looking like a mad man
with a pencil in his hand.
doin art.
yeah he still got what he got.
too bad a little drug pulls him apart.
from his fame.
now he's left with nothing but shame.
but to me he still the same.
so ok it gave his family a bad name.
but nobody ever bothered to care.
we only whisper and stare.
why?
cause his hair a little messy and he looked like a jerk?
well so do you and me.
thou you and i still got the 9 to 5 work
with people that made us feel like a perk.
man, i could go on forever
but i'll save the rest for later
cause if its about pen and paper
this brain is short on power
but if its of rage and honor
people starts calling me "gila"
=j
