Skull Made of Denim
He is the man with an always clenched fist
No sense of time, but a watch on his wrist
In a crowded room he looks with a stare
One lonely man, an emotionless glare
All his free time being master of none
Spends his nights in thinking weekends were fun
Got a dry mouth and veins full of venom
Emerald eyes, skull made of denim
He is the man with an always foul look
Doesn't like to read, but still holds a book
Very few peers would call him a friend
Slouching his back, his smile pretend
All his free time being master of none
Spends his nights in thinking weekends were fun
Got a dry mouth and veins full of venom
Emerald eyes, skull made of denim
Writer/s: Denim Skull
