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Pure Imagination
by Richie Cunning

Woke up, couldn't remember what my dream was
But it was probably the same one
Where I'm sitting at a easel in the rain with a masterpiece
Trying not to let the paint run
It ain't really nothing new, cousin, bareknuckle boxing
With the snooze button, but he never stays down
I've had mornings where I wanted to tell them I wasn't coming
But man thats how I'm feeling every day now
Take a breath, punch the clock, here we go again
Straighten out the nametag, tuck the polo in
Trying to swallow my pride, but going out of my mind
Taking orders from motherfuckers I'm older than
Lunch break, come back to make chump change
Starting to feel like I'm running out of somedays
Cross my heart, hope to die
My love letter with no reply, close my eyes and imagine
What if anything could really happen
What if daydreams was everlasting
I know it's silly ain't it, but what if I really made it
And could say that I rap without feeling humiliated
I would send a thank you to everybody I proved wrong
Be in the studio before I put my shoes on
Jump out my bed every morning like a youngin on
December 25th and tear the ribbon off a new song
They would love it and they'd play it loud
Pour out my heart on the cut, they'd soak it up like a paper towel
They would stop me in the street every week just to say
"Keep holding down the city, boy you make us proud"
I'd be happy as can be, duke
Like I jumped right out of the fishbowl and into the deep blue
But there I go letting my mind get ahead of me
Swimming in a rainy day reverie

Clock out, bus home, and change costumes
Sometimes I wonder what I'm in it for
Another night, another 20 minute chance to convince
20 people that I'm worth 20 minutes more
If I knew that even one lone listener was with it
I would spit it 'til the club had to close down
Like a tired old hornplayer blowing
With his case propped open on the street in a ghost town
Take a breath, grab the mic, here we go again
Crowd thinning, I pretend that I ain't noticin
They said "Richie, yo you know we got your back, but it's late
And we ain't siting 'round waiting for the show to end"
Type of night that turn bangers into sad songs
Didn't even make enough to catch a cab home
Same train, same lonely ride
The cold world rolls slowly by, close my eyes and imagine
What if anything could really happen
What if my profession was my passion
What if I could sit in the back, hit every city on the map
And get the hell up out this labyrinth I'm trapped in
It goes hotel, motel, holiday inn
Around the world with my crew trying to follow the wind, for real
No more waiting on a wish, no more hanging 'round
Put the sails up and never let the anchor down
I would light up every face in the crowd
Cold tearing up the mic like ice in a blender
Laughs and wild times, hellos and goodbyes and
Too many unforgettable nights to remember
I would wonder if it all could be what it seems
Nobody wake me up, please, life is but a dream
But there I go letting my mind get ahead of me
Drowning in a rainy day reverie
Pure imagination...

Contributed by Amelia E. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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