post-it

now i'm 24-to-be 4 passes 20, it's an easy math to do but my math teachers said i even don't know what makes it two stars fallin' and singin' that same ole song used to be hangin' sound with the harmony of moon i want it back i hope it lay u prefer to hear me whisper crossroads seem to signify the light to change never have i learned how to hit the road i want u pilot i need u sail i think i'm on the passenger seat u seem too busy to table what u got underneath, underneath, underneath, trapped in this damn stupid math i beckon this month i'm a graduate-to-be professors know me with number nor they grade me on life i'm ridin' on the walkin' side one led me Rights one drenched me with readings after all, i'm just holding on the bachelor-of-arts-to-be.