Tones:

I've seen all that a man can see, except the problems, buried deep within me.
So many places, so many faces, but they all start to look the same
The people imagine something more, than I could ever be.
The sun that shines through my window pane might take leave, but I believe someday,
it will come back to me
I miss the world I use to see, and god damn 
I miss the man I use to be

Frankkay:

Te necesitamos para vivir, 
por favor vuelva
(We need you to live, please come back)

Both:

If there's one thing for sure, it's been a high tide
there's plenty of time left, life is a long ride,
life is too short, for a 15 page report,
but you can sing your story in a night.

Vuelva

from the other side he looked to be hypnotized,
he use to be such an approachable guy
but his approach was misaligned,
kept his feelings where no one could find them.
some say it was a conspiracy theory,
he'd probably say those were the old days when I was weak and weary
the mirror made him teary and delirious,
up and down yearly, the good moods collected dust,
his trust changed directions like wind gusts, 
he was tarnished and rusted, he was rusty,
a simple g, though he thought so, 
the same thing happened to him when he was a younger bro
confronted, up front and blunt,
just another one of the stuntman's stunts,
he knew he needed something that would get him out of this slump,
so he applied tetris to packin' up his trunk.
outgrew all the friends he had anyways, 
yea leavin' em was still sad but it was the only way
so the lonely man loaded up his last bag and took a ferry across the great lakes,
then the lonely man puffed his last jay,
and hitchhiked across the different highways,
just to prove it wasn't him, nah, it takes two.

He can't change himself, he needs some help from someone else,
so he keeps on movin' along, movin' along, movin' along
He tries to get on by, but he moves real slow with passive eyes
so he keeps on, singin' his song

He fell with no empire,
gave back all the things that took him decades to acquire,
admired the esquire, 
good thing marcus jeffrey always lifted him higher
a buyer, of many things he was,
he liked to spend all his money on liquor and buds,
alone at the pub, goblin' all the drinks up,
he doesn't have a drinking problem, he drinks, no problem,
meanwhile she's ballin', she misses him,
"when are ya comin' home? are ya fittin' in?"
I'm livin' it, and hey thanks for givin' a shit, ma.
you're the only thing I love anymore, and that's hard,
truth be told I never thought i'd make it this far,
but I'll make amends one day, and heal over them scars,
but for now I'll remain unaccompanied,
blendin' up my cigars, and splittin' em with weed.

It wasn't his fault he liked to be alone,
sat at home where his medicine was grown,
turned off his cellular phone on the weekend, 
only liked to listen to himself speakin',
critiquing', shrieking, he would be tweaking,
I don't know what kept him breathin'.
There must have been a Rosebud peakin' in,
but it's only been a few hours since his last sin,
but still his mind spins like the wind,
he's got two different faces like the gemini twins,
he misses the city he use to live in,
the two bedroom apartment aside the Sheraton,
he stares at it, and he imagines,
if the city would take him back, after where he has been...

after where he has been.

The Burden and the Rosebud (Unfinished Demo)

Fartin' around - poor quality, poor person.

http://www.thevirtuousman.wordpress.com/

The Beggar