Some live to write
and some write to live.

Some give to make
and some make to give.

So I'll make for a living
and never stop giving

and write you poetry as long as I live.

Home is the place you go when **** is just too much.

You hammer down on the gas as you let up on the clutch.

All your problems they are bullets
Just burning in the sun.

Grab hold of me
Pick up your pen

And blast em with your gun.

In the time of poets, I was a pirate sailing free out on the sea.
There wasn't a soul on this whole **** Earth that ever got the best of me.

I drank, I smoked, I ******, and I ate as I ran this master scam.

I lived like a king from other's things and never gave a ****.

I drank some brews
And wrote some lines and stared out into the night.

I saw you pass with a couple of friends and completely forgot how to write.

A coke addict came to his friend who was a crying drunk.
Both had hit rock bottom, it was the lowest that they've sunk.

The drunk man said "****, my friend, you must be feeling pretty ill."

The coke head laughed and asked him "What's it feel like to feel?"