I can't fix your hope
if its shattared or broke
Can't change where you've been,
where you're at
or where your going.
If you decide to be taken
by ocean or pavement
needles in the basement
or another definitive arrangement
I can't stop you,
though I hope you'll pull through
perceive a different view
find a strength within you.
Life's got more to give
but you've gotta
build your own  bridges
to reach where it is.
I can't do this for you,
but I'll be here if you need me too
even if it's just to shoot the breeze or to lean on

Deep timbre words,
seemingly from nowhere,
offering advice on life
and different opportunities.

Choices are the spice of life,
they flavor the future,
from deep within,
ancestors speak guidance.

Sometimes skull-rattling,
other times a whispered word,
like marks on a map,
to keep us on track.

In the end, the choice is ours,
to heed the mental whispers,
or to venture down dangerous alleys,
despite the inner warnings.

I was planning on having Monk Fish for dinner tonight
But it didn't want to be disturbed

I don't really wanna talk about it.

I think it's better if I keep it to myself.

Sometimes I could really do without it.

This kinda thing's just no good for my health.

-

Because again and again
I tell the same story,
and I know it's a shame
but there's nothing that you can do for me.
Being alone don't scare me.
I'll just kick back with my friend Mary.
-
It's the usual drama.
The same old skit.
Another boy let me down
but I'll get over it.
I'll just pack another bowl
and get a clean hit
of this high grade ****.

- -

So don't ask me if I'm OK.
I don't feel any different to how I did yesterday
and it didn't matter then
and it doesn't matter now.
I just wanna numb the pain
and I don't care how.

- -

Oh Mary! Mary-Jane.

I got the real life blues again.

So take me away, let's fly.

Nothing matters when I'm high

-

and I don't really wanna talk about it.

I think it's better if I keep it to myself.

Sometimes I could really do without it.

This kinda ****'s just no good for my health.

-

I don't really wanna talk about it.

I don't really wanna talk about it.

I don't really wanna talk about it.

...

You work so hard, and for what?
Sell your soul for a chance to play at life’s little game.
To take a part you’ve already lost.

You work so hard for a chance to live.
But your life is the price you pay.
You give it all chasing phantom carrots.

Stuck on an endless cycle.
Trying to resurrect in the act of killing
The very thing you had to begin with.
The only thing you’ve ever wanted.

In the end it’s wasted effort.
Can’t win no matter what.
In order to live you must die.
And thus the game is played.
As if you were given a choice...