Grey highway swarm of thoughts in afternoon
Depart to face the questions
Of what could happen soon
How many lives per week
Would you be willing to save
With words?
There isn't an answer it's all rhetoric
Strange kind of ******
Crippled in withdrawal
So empty without a violin to tune
Your thoughts your inner self
A song that lost its chorus
Drowning my insanity
While I save you from yours

Or at least hear your story
Good enough for a double lifetime
So what else is there besides
Your negative attention seeking...