i got my red tennis shoes
but i wish i had more motivation
i wish i had more dedication
wish i didn’t have to keep
waiting waiting waiting
for the next idea to pop into my head
or until something goes wrong and i have to vent

i got my red tennis shoes, and if i could make half the things i wanted to create,
i think i wouldn’t be nearly as nervous
i would start to give less than i take
i think i’d have too much money as of late
but how many coins can i run for
before they come shackles?
before i run into a spike and feel my entire body rattle?
how long until over-justification affect becomes my battle?

the level’s almost over,
but how long until i can stop wishing i was still in creative writing class?
how long until i can stop wondering if you still find me exciting and cool
maybe if i knew you again
and if we were friends
i wouldn’t have to worry about if my glory days are over yet
i wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not ive already made the best poem i ever will
you admired my skill
maybe that’s just why i admired you
you were the tails to my sonic
you always followed me until i got too fast
until i got off the trails
until i was speeding up
running upside down,
i was no longer the class clown
with almost straight A’s and a few books on the way
it was easier for you to run away
now it’s easier to turn away

the fears chase me
stars rotating above my head
i wish i didn’t lose my best friend
but it’s game over,
thank god im player one
and until i beat the boss,
beat the game,
move to california
i’ll keep my red tennis shoes on
until i put holes in these sneakers