childhood

when the music is over, the lights come on to show the decent soul.
once in awhile we get those sanguine souls and restless toes that hope for yet another mo.
staving off unnecessary interventions is what some people do. that's what i choose to do too.
for those who take things ex-ante, this is just our forte.
ugly truth be told, no one wants to be defeated, no.
the godfathers pay their dues, as they gather them thugs who break the rules, yet no one gives a hoot or two. that's what we do. if we might, we beat the lights just for what they call a fight.
the music is over, when we say it's over. it ain't over. watch us hover over their shoulders.