You might/should/would think I'm full throttle
just because I go to dives in my underwear,
reach across the counter and drink right from the bottle.
From time to time
I might talk to myself.
We have some really heated arguments;
I hate that guy. Such a bore.
He'd say, "Don't go and rob that store
At least go around back, use a gun
don't just paint a banana black."
We might be on the no fly list,
just because once I got ******
and ****** out the airlock.
One day I might get my mind right,
kick these habits,
go find out what happened
to my non-existent kid and wife.
Until then
Lucid is a luxury that I intend to disarm
sell to my dealer to get more
sugar for my arm.
Sometimes I just like listening to the voices in my head
and all their whacked out ravings
as I tie myself to the bed.
Crazy people are the ones
who are the same thing everyday.
The same as you, full of pride,
until I had an epiphany
while my brain did the electric slide.
I have the ability to destroy lives
by showing how much of a waste
yours belies.
And if the world thinks I'm touched,
I'll stroke their back
put everyone to sleep,
so I can undo reality.