midnight poetry
just never changes
does it
same dance
outside
same slow death
inside
can't stand to be crowded in
can't stand to be alone
just prowl behind the same bars
just like i always did
have
will
waiting for something
that'll never come
that i can't even describe
waiting fo someone
that'll never be
no knight in armor for me
all i have are
thoughts that let me be
won't let me sleep
at night
i never want to leave
in the morning
even a nightmare is better
than being awake
because there i'm alive
in the day
it's a long slow death
i can feel me slipping away
and becoming less
i don't know if i can
break away
in time
against me! "thrash unreal"
If she wants to dance and drink all night then there’s no one that can stop her.
She’s going until the house lights come up or her stomach spills onto the floor.
This night is going to end when we’re damn well ready for it to be over.
Worked all week long now the music is playing on our time.
We do what we do to get by, and then we need a release.
You get mixed up with the wrong guys.
You get messed up on the wrong drugs.
Sometimes the party takes you places that you didn’t really plan on going.
When people see the track marks on her arms she knows what they’re thinking.
She keeps on working for that minimum,
as if a high school education offered any other options.
They don’t know nothing about redemption.
They don’t know nothing about recovery.
Some people just ain't the type for marriage and family.
No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to be a junkie.
No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to sleep alone.
She’s out of step with the style.
She don’t know where the actions happening.
You know the downtown club scene ain't nothing like it used to be.
You reach a point where there’s not a lie in the world
that you could use to make the boys believe your still in you twenties.
But they keep getting younger, don't they baby?
She’s not waiting for them to come over and ask for the privilege.
She can still here that Rebel Yell just as loud as it was in 1983.
There ain't no Johnny coming home to share a bed with her and she doesn’t care.
No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to be a junkie.
No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to sleep alone.
If she had to live it all over again you know she wouldn’t change anything for the world.
does it
same dance
outside
same slow death
inside
can't stand to be crowded in
can't stand to be alone
just prowl behind the same bars
just like i always did
have
will
waiting for something
that'll never come
that i can't even describe
waiting fo someone
that'll never be
no knight in armor for me
all i have are
thoughts that let me be
won't let me sleep
at night
i never want to leave
in the morning
even a nightmare is better
than being awake
because there i'm alive
in the day
it's a long slow death
i can feel me slipping away
and becoming less
i don't know if i can
break away
in time
against me! "thrash unreal"
If she wants to dance and drink all night then there’s no one that can stop her.
She’s going until the house lights come up or her stomach spills onto the floor.
This night is going to end when we’re damn well ready for it to be over.
Worked all week long now the music is playing on our time.
We do what we do to get by, and then we need a release.
You get mixed up with the wrong guys.
You get messed up on the wrong drugs.
Sometimes the party takes you places that you didn’t really plan on going.
When people see the track marks on her arms she knows what they’re thinking.
She keeps on working for that minimum,
as if a high school education offered any other options.
They don’t know nothing about redemption.
They don’t know nothing about recovery.
Some people just ain't the type for marriage and family.
No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to be a junkie.
No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to sleep alone.
She’s out of step with the style.
She don’t know where the actions happening.
You know the downtown club scene ain't nothing like it used to be.
You reach a point where there’s not a lie in the world
that you could use to make the boys believe your still in you twenties.
But they keep getting younger, don't they baby?
She’s not waiting for them to come over and ask for the privilege.
She can still here that Rebel Yell just as loud as it was in 1983.
There ain't no Johnny coming home to share a bed with her and she doesn’t care.
No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to be a junkie.
No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to sleep alone.
If she had to live it all over again you know she wouldn’t change anything for the world.