The world grows lonely as the years go by
Where all the people around you begin to die
But not in the sense where they leave this earth
They just seem to move on to places like Perth

Some seem to smile brighter surrounded by glowing lights
Dancing in clubs, from night to night
From drink to drink to pill to pill
Doing lines off the bench, as pupils widen and fill

Lighting cigarettes in cars, Enjoying the green
Filling cars full of smoke, like young kids of eighteen
Eyes reddening and glazing, Fading out of this zone
As the concept of time becomes blackened and unknown

Some are passionate and driven, working harder each day
Building businesses and plans, so they can achieve something great they say
Counting up budgets, preparing their lives.
They are people who will succeed, not just survive

Others are married, having kids, and Starting their happiness off young
Though many think they are making mistakes, but they hold their tongues
Time move on, and people are getting engaged
Whatever feels right to them I think, regardless of their age

As people choose their lifestyles, and none of them suit you well
It's hard to find a crowd that won’t make you feel like hell
The world feels lonely as time passes, You feel like you're all alone
When people don’t message back, or check on you over the phone

People you called friends move on, as do you
But I can’t seem to find a rhythm, I can’t seem not to feel blue
I feel empty on the inside, and envy those who know what to do
Jealous of their smiles, as they always have something new

Feeling lost and outdated, In this forever changing life
Maybe if I begin to work harder, take up partying, or become a wife
Will this feeling go away, Will I stop feeling such strife
As the loneliness eats away at my energy, cutting deeper than a knife

The world will keep on changing
I know at least that is right.

Eighty years young
Speaking in tounge

Your body fought
Head full of bizarre thought

Arms and legs restrained
How are you not frightened

Are they violent, Yah?
We tried, everything,
for the shake of your revival

I can't bear to see you like this
I wish you are dismiss

Heavily sedated & exhausted
To tired to wrestled & agitated
Lord please take his pain away

This knee used to be fine,
no grinding feelings or immobility,
I crouched like a god

I also had back muscles
that laughed off twisting,
I wiped my *** with gay abandon

My eyes focused when I woke
and any blurriness was a sign
of rock ‘n’ roll

Now, as my supposed wisdom grows,
this flabby mechanism
seems want to say no

Why am I
Feeling this low
Why do I feel like
Life is moving too fast
Am I just that slow
That I can't keep up
What is this intense aching
In my heart
These emotions
are too much to bear
Trying to find ways
To make these feelings clear.

Let me reset
one more chance
to give my best
all this blood rushing
through my chest
eager for another shot
at happiness.

Is it just me
or does anybody else see
this life passes by too quickly
Before you even get a moment to breathe
Still trying to find ways to shine
The more I try, The more I feel like
I am running out of time.

Let me reset
one more chance
to give my best
all this blood rushing
through my chest
eager for another shot
at happiness.

Getting older
Should be gracefully changing
Seem to be battling ageing
Each day I lose a little more hope
That the dreams I've set
Will never get met
and that makes me a little depressed

Let me reset
one more chance
to give my best
all this blood rushing
through my chest
eager for another shot
at happiness.

I’m invincible, unstoppable

until I stub my toe
and come a cropper
and the earth below me shifts
and sits on my chest with a manic grin

The gasp for breath
like a feeble request for one more chance,
******* properly in a bunch
as all avenues close

These are the swings and roundabouts,
the reciprocal motions
that see rise and fall as one

decades in you’d think it’d all make sense
but this viscous, thick emotion
is as sticky as always

Sunday morning
sluggish streets blink
and whisper to themselves
that there was sun, yesterday

the jagged methadone
of a bad night’s sleep
giving all the weight
none of the peace

technicolour memories
seem to be made false
by this overcast sky
so happiness lies

in the old days
a cigarette and a cup of coffee
would smooth edges,
in the good old days

Toward the end of it all
my knackered earth beds
sit dishevelled
like a mother’s rushed haircut

tufts of the next growth
brace for another brown-grey winter
while the last redcurrants hide,
blood dark rubies
tucked in dying leaves of neighbour bushes

in the middle, the supermarket spruce
of three years ago
waits its turn
growing done in the throng of all
while the sun played favourites

soon, in the cat pad darks
the ground will be given back to rule,
cold, empty and silent

Time that is the enemy of purpose,
    Breathing birthing nothing but burden of ageing,
Wasting the time, in shortage, which one regrets
  when wrinkled and disabled,
      Waiting for Grim to release from illness.
Alas, if sleep is the cousin of death,
  This is dying and seeing death coming.

A bold density of memory anchors,
scattered across a past
where colour saturates
like someone sat on the remote control,
holy hand grenades on loose afternoons
with the slap and bicker of passing the joypad
in blithe ignorance of washing piles
deadlines and empty pockets

Drifting in the now, helium light,
well-heeled but drab,
absent fingers trace the slight links
on the line around arthritic ankles
as they gently, surely give