Man I miss those whiskey kisses
Thought that, babe, you might become a Mrs.
But a Mrs. of what a bottle and a gut?
Here on the street just a buzz means a lot
City of Angles
I think not
No one to trust
God tried to save them
Then Disney sold it out of lust
What a ******* *******
Can't believe my first morals
Came from a ****
But those whiskey kisses, they just got me
Look at those dark, giant, robotic towers
This is where dreams happen
This is where I get wasted
But that black granite
And tarnished stars
Made me remember who we really are
Just two mad children
In love with just enough
Caught up in the night
Intoxicated bliss
Man, I hope she'll miss me
Everytime she drinks whiskey

Vanity
Me?
Me?
Heightened sense of security
Me?
Me?
Vanity
Felt through everything
We’re the echoes through eternity
Me?
The fibers snap, snap conduct
Feverishly
Sending to benevolent web
Me?
I was there it was a ******* tragedy
You remember
That day?
Vanity
Me?
We’re more important than anything
This is the turn of the century
What we do
Echoes through eternity
Me?
Heightened sense of security
Big bro
He knows everything
Me?
We know everything
Anything we find
Quite conveniently
BLIND
Me?
A sarcophagus of time
This happened before in some other land
Before we knew of this
Time
BLIND
Me?
Vanity
Me?
Me?
Heighten sense of security
The fibers they snip snap tap
Feverishly
Conductivity
But we still don’t know ANYTHING
Me?
Vanity?
I was there it was a ******* tragedy!
Why’d they take the towers away
Did it really happen that day?
To
Me?
***** Monster
Narcissist Pharisee
Conscripted pet
Atrocity
I was there it was a ******* tragedy
Why’d they take the towers away?
Must have been vanity…

His words stitched like rail road ties
through sentiment and simile.
His fingers like slaves to emotions in his brain.

The hum of his instrument,
so rich and so right.
Constructing soundtracks to stories
about what it means to be alive.

Tapping beats from the back of his thigh,
bop-bop, doo-woop.
Turning feeling into vibrations
that shake the walls of the bus station.

What change he got shaking like a tambourine
inside his cardigan pocket.
The gold trim on his six string
shines like a locket under bright orange lights.

I called him the Musician.
his mother called him Bentley.
his father never called,
the streets called him crazy.

His audience passing cars.
Cigarette butts and trashed plastics.
The Musician waxed and waned
as the world kept on passing.

I’ve seen some patterns that happen every day
In the growth and the stagnant way we decay
In these walls with no windows and the teachers all glazed
Eye’s glazed from the all-consuming glooming haze
Of what we all must become someday, right?

So live it up now because in ten years we’ll be settled
We’ll either grind it out or run away from the ghetto
To suburbia where no black man resides
This is the land where white men all hide
Have kids, hate your wife, hate your life because you have resigned
To what you hated at sixteen because it happens all the time

I need to SCREAM that this is not the only thing
We are not all cogs in this machine that lacks life’s meaning
Dr. Manhattan said that we’re all tied to strings
And the FDA keeps on poisoning
Well he had a point and our food disappoints
But we are not hopeless, we can anoint
Our own power to see the strings that toy with girls and boys
And slow the rate at which we destroy
Our own bodies and homes and the earth and our minds
We are capable of breaking societal binds

Beat

So pass that joint to the **** and get out
Because substance doesn’t need more substance when your mind could spill out
From thinking, from capability, from plane to plane
Polluting the air while you pollute your own brain
I’m not disrespecting, there’s always a place
But get out of that scene so you can get out of the race to the end
Of youthful reputation that always constantly needs mending
Escaping won’t help because it’s always just pretending

We are not victims and we are not martyrs
We have contributed to this world from the very start
Of our ephemeral, radical, illogical existence
With our parents raising us to never know resistance
But it’s in our bodies we just refuse to assist it
The birth is messy, ******, not gut-free, completely you and completely me
Covered in what we call wicked tragedy
And from the womb of our souls we take a new body with standards to break
It slithers from slender thighs like a domesticated snake
Down our legs and across the floor so we can FINALLY RELATE
To a world that this city doesn’t know
A world outside of the common, the rotting, the flow
And you know that I know that we know we can feel it
We feel it because we can hardly *believe it

I feel inspired
Inspired to write
Like my father and father before me
Inspired
To fight the good fight
For I know it's my purpose to show people
There's a light
Deep inside of them even if they
Don't see it shine so bright
For I know that every line
And breathe, breathed in to me
Is for a reason
Addi gave me 19
19 reasons I wasn't swimming in a sea
Of misconstrued energies
Lost in repetition
Everlasting patterns
They poud on but never see
Round and round they go
In the pattern of the beast
Lost blindly in a daily regimen
A material sin
They'll never see
If it wasn't for like lost boys like
Addi
Who make it there mission
To tell everybody
That these lines have a reason
Each year an eternal voice
It's all your choice
Addi sketched something on a night so bleak
On a page once blank
A work of art I'm blessed to keep
And written above those masterful 19 lines
"Put it in your thought bank
You don't have to be alone
You don't have to run away"