Verse
I say I don’t believe in God
I’m the next John, Lennon
As I came out of my mom
Four shots sent that man to Heaven
He posed for a picture in the same position I laid for nine months
And when he left that room, I left the womb and was shot by some chump
The same moment that he fell to his knees, my lungs couldn’t breathe, we both heaved
But only he went to sleep…
It was then I was able to scream
And following, I had ghandis for two weeks
The same color as his submarine
I leaned cursive years later then learned we have the same handwriting
I have memories of a glassed man in my childhood dreams
But it didn’t scare me, because the man wasn’t mean
He was just there every night when I went to sleep, counting my sheep
Was this John Lennon or is that too obscene?
I was too young to know who he was, but it would explain why my sober brain is on drugs
Years later I found his camera at a Hard Rock
But when I looked through it my stomach dropped
I didn’t see though the other end, it was things I had already watched
I blinked and it went away…what the hell did I just see inside of that little black box?
And maybe you think that I may sound crazy
But I’ve been having visions in my dreams lately
I think a part of this man was taken and lives on in me
I swear to the God that I don’t believe
Something of this man lies in my prophecy
Imagine that, or should I just Let It Be?
John Lennon, live on