I found, between the cosmic doom
And manic laughing states,
Is where no more than boredom floats
And unfulfillment waits.

Some will turn, that want relief,
To ***, or drugs, or love.
Some will find just one is weak
And take all the above.

But others have much looser grips,
And joy slips through the three.
And that can make existence bleak
For those in life like me.

It's often the birds and the bees
That teach us how *** is a breeze,
But had they before
Said it's all metaphor
I would still have my pet parakeets.

The rose has been a symbol for
The joys of love, romance galore,
But could a rose be picked as fine
As you appear in eyes of mine?
See, I expect the red to pale,
The stem to curl, grotesque and stale,
The thorns to fall in ones and twos,
As tears, perhaps, inspired by you.

I've dragged and I've yanked with my fingers.
My efforts, however, in vain.
Try as I might, to pull backwards the night,
I shan't live that day once again.
The moon gives my fingerprints frostbite.
It's barren and cold with despair.
I wish to return where the sun gently burned
And made glimmer the red of your hair.

A rush of satisfaction is
Anticipation dying.
Happiness is merely just
The spaces between crying.
Sober is a waste of time,
And time, a waste of space.
We are people, sick and twisted,
Due to be replaced.
Love exists to make us ****,
The magic is a lie.
Life is less a conquered journey,
More a tired sigh.
Everything we live for is
A system made by man,
Keeping us distracted through
Our lives entire span.

I don't mean to scare you
But could we make a deal?
I would like to wear your skin
To know how beauty feels.
Maybe pop a couple eyes
And test your lovely brain.
Admiring the intellect
This mind of yours contains.
Possibly your lips and nose,
Your fingers, knees and feet.
You'll be my perfect exosuit
Of pretty skin and meat.

*** and drugs and rock and roll,
Hurts the body, frees the soul.
Lose your thoughts, absolve control.
Find the freedom others stole.