|03-13-2013, 07:59 AM||#1|
Ribbed for her pleasure
Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: In your wallet
I can't seem to write anymore, I try to, but nothing that comes out seems inspired like it used to be. So I made an excuse and wrote this as an explanation. It's terrible, but I haven't posted in forever.
You know, I always thought there were answers
not the "who am I" and "why am I here" ones
but to the "why me"'s and "How could this happens"
I've never been astranged from tragedy
see darkness rears its ugly face when it knocks at my door
preaching its religion to deaf ears
depression was a choir of doses carefully measured
to keep me from succumbing to faith
and I still think about jesus sometimes
when I'm nailed to the crossword in the doctors office
'cause they haven't got the dexadrine dosage just right yet
and the only thing that can hold my attention longer
is caged inside behind serotonin reuptake inhibitors
some days I feel less like a man and more like a cocktail
Harvey Wallbanger's Sex on the Beach
but I can't stop, once you pop
society is a bitter pill to swallow
Music is an art form that celebrates potential. So long as you're looking for it, you'll always find it.