the fire of life in me can be compared to a dying light bulb.
ain’t that a bad comparison?
the days were like the days when we still don’t care
about the things we say again
but we’re just fooling ourselves
---

good that you have a drink in your hand
don’t you have work tomorrow?
it feels like the strings are getting cut
whenever you ditch a day doesn’t it?
well it’s that feeling that drains
take my words, i’m not putting you down
here with me,
listen, you don’t understand that
at this age you shouldn’t be forcing
what’s not there anymore
and you’ve been diagnosed with the disease
since you age
everybody does, no exceptions
i hate to be the bringer of  bad news
but it’s the truth buddy.

---

you don’t have to state the obvious,
it’s everywhere, over you, over me, everywhere
i just want to pretend that the day’s
going to be great once in a while
don’t you think that it’s not bad to
shed your own skin for a breather huh?
i mean, it gets tiring, i want to put the
mad dog face down for at least today
and i don’t know... maybe go to
a place where the ****’s not as bad
as what we got here

---

where?

---

ugh ****.. i feel lazy...
listen, let’s just
smoke this blunt in my room while
we listen to your playlist
i hope you have morrissey

---

sounds like a plan...