theres no food in the cubbard.
Im thinking about buying a goat,but according to fucking mark,there more then 50 bones.
Strange as these days turn into things I neglect and let seemingly fade
I pull on the increasing hairs on my chin
feel the hours pass by and grin
so smug it is to bask in sin.
Lending an ear and some elbow grease dosent cut it anymore,
you got to eat their pussy...dig in deep to this orophous
grant wishes,tell stories
though you still might have dreams that point to a history of drug abuse,
long nights of leaking battery acid out over a bathtub
huffing glue.
shit to get high,at some point it really dosent matter any more.
but did it ever..
knowing statistics in every sport,
or directors and starlits in films.
know the diffrence between deathmetal and math metal,
headband and blue dream.
its all diffred reality,theres nothing in there to keep the bears from eating your life.
I used to be ripe with anticipation,now im just stocked full of ammuniton.
my lover was raped tonight..
all i could do was stare.
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