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Bitter Blizzard

Song: Bitter Blizzard Artist: 1 3 7 Lyrics: Heard a lot of things through the grapevine; Heard the tick-tock of the clock, still I feel fine. All my hours feel so close, To the kiss of morning, Though sky's morose, And the clouds are mourning. Take my leather-bound journal to the Lethe, All the wayworn souls by that river won't forget me. Frozen, In the bitter blizzard that's called, Wisdom; Build a brazen movement, Then a kingdom. You lost reverence, Because of close proximity, Your residence, Is in the bowels of normalcy, Sages eaten. Know I, Do keep a pen in my vicinity, Able to knight a willing subject, Upon a bended knee. Don't vie, For my vantage point, unpreparedly, 'Cause you might be harrowed, By the things your inner eyes will see. Pick a card, Wonder who you'll meet upon the boulevard, Of your dreams, Met the Reaper just the other day; The scenes with themes, Macabre, Are embedded in my very seams; Abracadabra— Create as I speak and I speak as it truly seems. Speak too much truth, Gotta lie low, Hard to spit a rhyme while in Hades with a halo. I feel craft is the lotion to dryness; When you next address me, You may utter words: Your Highness. Frozen, In the bitter blizzard that's called, Wisdom; Build a brazen movement, Then a kingdom.Lyrics: Heard a lot of things through the grapevine; Heard the tick-tock of the clock, still I feel fine. All my hours feel so close, To the kiss of morning, Though sky's morose, And the clouds are mourning. Take my leather-bound journal to the Lethe, All the wayworn souls by that river won't forget me. Frozen, In the bitter blizzard that's called, Wisdom; Build a brazen movement, Then a kingdom. You lost reverence, Because of close proximity, Your residence, Is in the bowels of normalcy, Sages eaten. Know I, Do keep a pen in my vicinity, Able to knight a willing subject, Upon a bended knee. Don't vie, For my vantage point, unpreparedly, 'Cause you might be harrowed, By the things your inner eyes will see. Pick a card, Wonder who you'll meet upon the boulevard, Of your dreams, Met the Reaper just the other day; The scenes with themes, Macabre, Are embedded in my very seams; Abracadabra— Create as I speak and I speak as it truly seems. Speak too much truth, Gotta lie low, Hard to spit a rhyme while in Hades with a halo. I feel craft is the lotion to dryness; When you next address me, You may utter words: Your Highness. Frozen, In the bitter blizzard that's called, Wisdom; Build a brazen movement, Then a kingdom. Drop your suggested song below in comment section!!!