Wearing a Darth Vader sweater,
Surrounded by people I don't really know.
She bought me a Pink Floyd shot glass,
An early Christmas present.
Told me to bring it with me this Friday,
Said it would come in use.
She said, let's do this & I said okay.
She said there isn't anything like
Inhaling smokey fumes that release
Dopamine, I hope I'll be happy
I hope that this makes me happy again
It's been a while since I've been happy
While doing such shenanigans.
And I know after all the metal & the smoke
& the bonfire & the liquor, & the people
Oh how I love it all,
But after it's all over, that night
I just want someone to call me on
The 21st & have one of those,
Phone conversations that last for hours
To hear a human voice while ****** up,
I'd like to be ****** up, but anchored,
To the person on the other end.
The person on the other "end of the world".
Is it going to be the end of the world?
I'd like to die talking to someone
Who will call me on the 21st?