I got Jack Kevorkian in the trunk of,
My 911 Porsche Sport
With a leaky transmission and
Lighter fluid in the oil pan to,
Set myself ablaze
because
I'm the hottest killer in the game
Just a poet
Who pulls his threads of passion
From the sickness in his pain
The ink is blood that
leaks out from my veins and,
Scribbles musings so desperate on the page
My mouth is like a leaky faucet
but
My hearts a busted watermain
Flooding and empty room
Drowning out the poor excuse of
The boy I was
In my wasted youth
A denizen of ***** diner booths
With napkin rhymes that in my mind
Create the grand design of wasted time
That draws pencil lines
Sketching out
This life of mine
Jul 6, 2021
Jul 6, 2021 at 10:21 PM UTC
I got Jack Kevorkian in the trunk of,
My 911 Porsche Sport
With a leaky transmission and
Lighter fluid in the oil pan to,
Set myself ablaze
because
I'm the hottest killer in the game
Just a poet
Who pulls his threads of passion
From the sickness in his pain
The ink is blood that
leaks out from my veins and,
Scribbles musings so desperate on the page
My mouth is like a leaky faucet
but
My hearts a busted watermain
Flooding and empty room
Drowning out the poor excuse of
The boy I was
In my wasted youth
A denizen of ***** diner booths
With napkin rhymes that in my mind
Create the grand design of wasted time
That draws pencil lines
Sketching out
This life of mine