Freshman Thesis

Before I spoke in riddles, I was worried someone would hear me

Now I know that no one really listens so I will just speak clearly

I don't have private thoughts, just a lyrical worksheet

For mangling my observations on the meter and the beat

And in the process of it, on every line

Sooner or later I'll have to change the meaning to fit the rhyme



But back in the skylight all of the stars

Turn into sound and then they shout down at me

Though they are far away, they shout so loudly

I think I may know what they're saying to me

It's on the tip of my ear