O bartender,
It has been a while
You slinging drinks with a casual smile
Cocktails you throw and stir and shake
And at closing time my heart does break.

O bartender,
What to say, you always know
Crafted words and my excitement grows
Tequila, beer or simply rather
"I'm glad you enjoyed, would you like another?"

O bartender,
You always look after me
Especially when you find me on a spending spree
Thank you bartender for all the great times
For this cocktail now which you call mine.

You ever sit?
You have that itch?
So you scratch.
Scratch.
Scratch that ******* itch.
It just won't go away.
It keeps gnawing away.
At your neck.
Down your spine.
Down your arms.
Your ******* face.
That ******* itch.
And you scratch.
You just keep scratching.
It just keeps itching.
Then.
You realize.
You.
You are the itch.
The itch you can't scratch.

Baby, its you vs. them.

They only see
The things that don't fit in
That don't make sense
To their enquiring

They don't get
There is so much more
Than corporate and company
And a good credit score

They invest in you
**** that,
You're not an asset
They wait to see
What will you return
Company car?
Clinical depression?

Written on your walls
You quote to yourself
"Money can't buy happiness"

Written on their walls
The days penciled in
Numbers like a prison sentence

They throw you their doubts
All the reasons you'll fail
They tell you're stupid
For believing in yourself

They tell you to find some
Purpose, some meaning
They tell you to do this
From the list they have aproven  

**** that
*******
**** that ****
They keep making you do

**** that ****
**** all your doubts
**** your hypocrisy
Of praying to God
Praying that
Life won't knock you down too hard

Maybe you're right
Maybe I'm wrong
You're naive too though
If you believe
That this little construction
Is all that you need
That if you look just like
Act just like
Pretend just like
The rest

God won't pick up on your
Unhappiness

If you smile just right
Eat just right
Get paid just right
Then who will know you
You can't sleep at night.

Surely not me, I sleep just fine.

Soft Voice, Loud Thoughts
Like the drip, drip, drip
Of a tap that won't,
No, can't get fixed.

And those words otherwise
Left unheard drip, drip, drip
With the broken tap
Allowong those Loud Thoughts,
With those Soft Voices
Their means to their end;
To shout...
Drip, drip, drip

And the shouting is not that
Shrieking, screaming
Of a child left unfed
Or a mother left mourning
But rather of those few words
Drip, drip, drip
That make their way past
A vocal cord which feels as though
It has already been ripped out

A vocal cord ripped out by those
Loud Voices with Soft Thoughts,
With rough hands and rougher tongue
Who use and abuse their words
Like everything else they've  thrown away.
Drip. Drip. Drip.

And so Loud Thoughts with Soft Voices
Are made to feel obsolete
In a world of shrieking, screaming, shouting!
Drip! Drip! Drip!
But Loud Voices with Soft Thoughts
Would rather shout at brick walls
Than... Breathe...
       And then so ... what's the point?

Those Loud Thoughts with Soft Voices
Sooner or later begin to deafen themselves
With the Soft Thoughts of Loud Voices
And that drip, drip, drip
Of Soft Voices with Loud Thoughts
Rushes and Gushes with the shrieking,
Screaming and shouting
At brick walls.

Can you still feel your vocal cords?