Is there a way I could end my existence
And try once, to live again
It's not like I couldn't use your assistance
or ask you to do something like sin

I'm just afraid, I've been burnt, by so many
I don't need another ******-friend
Never trust a politician honey
Never trust a politician's friend

If you ever feel like making music
I would let you borrow all my pens
Sorry, all my guitars are broken
And I haven't any money for a set

I wonder if there was a cool way to say it
My hands wouldn't be trembling
I never could handle, hey I erased it
What's the magic words again

'Cause I know please and maybe some others work
But, I haven't any in my pen
I know it's too late to say sorry
But that even isn't one of them

I'll try to write down the magic words
Now, tell me, if you think of them
I had them written down, all of them
This can not really be the end

I'm sorry I must of just got lost here
Direct me where to meet again
I know I'll find those magic words
They're here somewhere, Maybe in my other pen

Look at that!  Erased again!  How'd that happen?
What is really happening
I thought that we were more than friends
Is there something wrong between your ears?

I'm looking for those magic words
There!  I found them.  I thought it would be easier
There goes my old condition called nervousness
I hope it doesn't turn you off again

The looks that you've been giving lately
Has it have to do with him
I thought we had something special here
A condition free experience

There goes my eraser again
It happened to me once again
A smudge spot smeared by all its might
There'll be a lot of lonely nights again
There'll be a lot of lonely nights again

So break me out another beer my friend
Because we're going to have plenty of time
She left me for good this time she said
Because I wanted to live again
I wanted to live again
That's all.  I wanted to live again

It's a lonely city, new york
In the summer of 1976
The serial killer son of sam
was killing off all the blondes
When the media leaked this information to the public
Six hundred thousand women dyed
their hair blonde overnight

It's a lonely city, new york

I shalt bite her bottom lip
Whilst Pulling her closer;
She shalt melteth at her hip's
Smoke coming from her tongue, as if a long term smoker.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley

You're not a Golden Boy,
And you never were meant to be.
You are a force of desperation,
Seeking salvation.
You live to be free.
That is the reason why
You may forever be bound
To the saviors of the Underground.

You were a bit of a child.
The world was having its way with you.
You tried to make a declaration,
A revelation,
Some celebration.
You tried some chemical shock.
As a dried leaf floats downstream,
It is steryl as an early angel.

You're just a Rolling Roy,
The drifting dust on a beam of sunlight.
You suffer from separation,
By invitation,
And so many things to see.
It is no wonder why
Your golden boy will not be found,
Except by those of the Underground.