It goes something like this:

Gravity keeps us bound with heavy footsteps to the earth,
slowly pulling everybody toward everyone else.
A spaceship must travel seven miles a second
just to leave the atmosphere,
but there is no velocity great enough
to get away from you.

It goes something like this:

I am tired of being pulled toward people 
who care nothing for who I am.
I am tired of people who see only what they want to see,
hear only what they want to hear.
The gravity of the situation does not escape
a heart that used to soar.

It goes something like this:

You think yourself a king,
rule thirteen hundred square feet of rotting wood
and angry souls and call yourself a man.
You tame the wild with brutal words and violent fists
and call it a home, but this is not home.
There is nowhere in these walls safe from you.

It goes something like this:

A collar of expectations weighs heavier than your crown,
presses purple shadows into my neck
and makes it hard to swallow anything other
than your disappointment.
You claim experience by your age
but wisdom is knowing youth is no indicator of foolishness.

It goes something like this:

There is more than one kind of forge, 
more than one way to shape something,
and I am starting to think that perhaps 
you should have been more careful with your tools.
You have a gift for building storms,
and lightning always catches tinder when it's dry.

It goes something like this: 

A fire cares nothing for the flesh it sears.
The flame that melts metal has no fear of sharp edges.
Karma smells of smoke and burning wood,
and justice takes so well to rising heat.
You call yourself a king, fashion yourself a crown,
but I am an inferno, and I have come to burn you down.