Make it interesting
Simply insecure
or possibly immature
Far flung from a grown up
I don’t do what they do
And exactly who
Are these people paying their bills
Juggling debt
Telling themselves this will be the last cigarette
oh that alluding appeal
of that carcinogen fog
Yet occasionally I too swallow the flame
Forever fleeting, chasing the dragon
how long will it last, continually it will wane
oh the sophistication
a curling strand of smoke can project, quite debonair
lining my veins with nicotine
waiting for some information to intervene
blame the media manipulation
something else always garners my attention
Left to their own devices
people will eventually off themselves
contributing their part for population control
living on borrowed time
why one glass, down the whole bottle of wine
Meeting the morning with a mimosa
who wants to be eighty anyway
romantic alcoholic rhetoric
leaves an empty ringing in my ear
posing questions to the mirror
I’m guilty of rambling on about nothing
what is derivative
what can be chalked up to futility
my enemy, stream of consciousness
or my sometimes lover
scribbling out to me
you’re not interesting without some deviance
Finding eloquence in a drunken stutter
examining gravity through rings of smoke
snickering at an inappropriate joke
gazing endlessly at those glowing rectangles
my goodness are you boring
get out there and come back
with a story to tell
(and write it well)
or possibly immature
Far flung from a grown up
I don’t do what they do
And exactly who
Are these people paying their bills
Juggling debt
Telling themselves this will be the last cigarette
oh that alluding appeal
of that carcinogen fog
Yet occasionally I too swallow the flame
Forever fleeting, chasing the dragon
how long will it last, continually it will wane
oh the sophistication
a curling strand of smoke can project, quite debonair
lining my veins with nicotine
waiting for some information to intervene
blame the media manipulation
something else always garners my attention
Left to their own devices
people will eventually off themselves
contributing their part for population control
living on borrowed time
why one glass, down the whole bottle of wine
Meeting the morning with a mimosa
who wants to be eighty anyway
romantic alcoholic rhetoric
leaves an empty ringing in my ear
posing questions to the mirror
I’m guilty of rambling on about nothing
what is derivative
what can be chalked up to futility
my enemy, stream of consciousness
or my sometimes lover
scribbling out to me
you’re not interesting without some deviance
Finding eloquence in a drunken stutter
examining gravity through rings of smoke
snickering at an inappropriate joke
gazing endlessly at those glowing rectangles
my goodness are you boring
get out there and come back
with a story to tell
(and write it well)