In take for one who's desolate.
Disgrace and lack of faith,
That keeps the vendetta in frustrate.
Makes one sit in their habits to *******.

Pull in, breathe out, a distraction that
Distracts the lungs of its purpose.
No longer healthy but wealthy with,
Plenty dark linings, man won't focus.

Tv's on, eating chips, dipped in dips,
Greasy flavors on big tank's lips.
Lots of fries, lots of flies, eating to die.
Doesn't care, obesity in thoughts left his mind.

Time to fall, desperate not once but for all.
To times that Mr. Money says I'm done, he crawls.
Sprawls on the floor of the bar where,
Men are in thirst to Lucifer other called alcohol.

Bad dogs, No! bad rabbits that hop to death,
For search of being good or bad addicts.
Looking through depressed windows in dark attics.
Because of their shameful lives and bad habits.