You acted as though I was playing with
your emotions where emotions run thin
Yet I can’t remember the last time I didn’t
            sit with a sore nose or bloodshot eyes
The alcohol is helping me cope with life but
life is getting in the way of the only positive substance
They call it a bad road acting as if I’m walking
ignoring the signs but the avenue I walk down
just gives me signs of life
            without the signs of life
Maybe I’m a fool to love or maybe I’m part of a
generation that get their kick out of the flakes that
fall from the nose that follows the scent of hope
Living behind a screen where no one brings
flowers but instead encrypt a ‘rest in peace’
to pretend they care in the moment yet
only know you behind a name on a page
            that shows the drought of when you were forgotten
I used to swim in the ocean but now I drown
in low self esteem with no direction other than
when the music fills the club where if you aren’t
drinking then you find yourself intoxicated by a life
that isn’t worth a second look so you try to write
a book to show people the pain but it’s just
            capitalism for the unsavoury brain of a generation
            that wait on death and even then you can’t escape
            because you’re told to choose between good and evil
            and you haven’t necessarily been good or evil
                        you’ve just been - well, you
            So you sit on your throne of lies and bring
            the polish with you to the gates so that
            you are no longer afraid when it gets
            to your time but be afraid of the time
                        because the longer you live the more you die.