Yesterday, there was a cloud and the cloud was turning
Today there were more, and the ounce kept burning
Some bar in Hamburg and dreams of punching Atatürk
The sister wasn't ****, no paper, seven X's
It wasn't a good time, it was a shoddy paper bar
The redneck ******* was the one who turned a star
But oh no
An axolotl with the body of a flying serpent
This is urgent, a full body of the color verdant
Learning the choreography of a murderer of burdens
The static and manic idiosyncracy of skin men
The bodies of three legends accounted to ten
But there was no reception or action back then
But who knows?
The calling of a tender serving drinks to no end
Many friends to attend to and mend the hearts
There were children who drank like worrywarts
And the shortened query of lines was eerie
Peering, they're steering like he was hearing
Some sudden tale of questionable origins in there

The fact that it's all the same **** with no name
Makes it the same old hat, the same old game
A dream of millenia ago when there was no fame
The only person booing was some swollen lame

But it's life and life is strange
How do you change the way you change the way you feel
Rotted brains that don't feel no feel, they steal
But time heals, so time equals no wounds and that's why
Why they wish to live forever on a never-ending ******
But then comes Life-ender, the scythe, ember, mender
And it's all over, no one's sober on this Rolls Royce
Range Rover, said Herbert Hoover the awful goober
And now it's all **** and there stood the stooge
A fool made of reed and a tool made of keys
But what for were keys when there's no doors in need
No trusty steed to ask for the **** or mead
Who knew that life would be so hard indeed
It's that two story fall that doesn't ****
It made them fall ill and lie still for a fill
Of this endless bucket made of Kengo's will
There was a silhuetto of a rusted stilleto
It was well kept like Velcro in a safe or the pocket
Of the dog from Kesto, that *******, he pictured it
Some poor animal and made it sit on the cover forever
That made it sever from reality and come back never
But that's a tale for another lever to pull
Or the fool with another drink in their hands
And a bit of food, delightfully canned or a machine
That was manned by a man who was made of sand
All there's left is a question I've always had
What if I was the cloud, and the cloud was dead?

You worship me
I know you do
Don't lie
You don't fool me

Late at night
You kiss me
You drink me in
You ******* sweetness

Sometimes we talk
I tell you lies
Like how pretty your eyes are
Or how you can actually dance

Best thing is
You believe me
Which makes you hate me in the morning
But you always come back in the night

The first time I blacked out I was with you.
I'd never drank in front of you before and I only had a few, but you brought me more.
My intentions were only to forget the **** going on inside of my head.
So three because twelve and the room began to spin,
But not at first.
At first I was light, my body was not my own, I felt this power and you called me beautiful.
I was in total control...
Then, I wasn't.
I laughed loudly and I shouted to speak,
I talked about nothing's and got caught up in the sheet.
I could not walk so I started to crawl, to check my phone, if I'd missed a call.
I started to repeat myself, over and over again.
You realized I was done for and took me to your bed instead.
You laid me down and cradled my face, you shook me to snap me out.
"I'm in control, I've got this, I'm in control, I've got this" repeating, pouring from my lips.
The lips you leaned down and tenderly kissed.
My mind reacted but my lips could not move, they kept talking about control and about you.
"You love him, but he doesn't love you, you love him, but he doesn't love you" repeating, flowing from my mouth.
You left the room, left me alone, you couldn't handle my doubt.
A whole hour later you came back to me, I was still talking, repeating, repeating.
"Nobody loves you, just die, nobody loves you, just die" catching on the breath that left as I spoke.
You sat next to me and on my words I began to choke.
You shook me really hard and smacked at my face lightly.
I came into consciousness and then fell into sleep silently.

Understanding you

is a thought I try not to have.

You are like alcohol.

I do not want you often, but when I do, I realize I want you more than I know, and I hold that thirst back.

Like Dunn says,

"If you were whiskey, I would be a **** drunk."

And a **** drunk I would be because you are the one whiskey,

wine,

cocktail,

shot, drink I cannot

reach on the shelf even when

I stretch my arms,

limits, and

beliefs to reach.

You are some kind of mindfuck.

Who am I kidding?

I am

a ****

drunk .

It is that time of week,
when our meaningless pursuits
drown in beer and single malts.

Our shadows retire besides us
tired of walking on overdoses of caffeine
and monotony.

The tires rest while the toes
breathe.

Even in this restless summer,
you somehow remember the fire hearth,
within your heart when you were young.

Exit Doors closed with regrets.
The waves are not beautiful.
The fear of death tastes nothing like ice.

A miserable mixture of cheap gin and tonic, that is a straight gulp of unending silence would feel like.

You are in the stagnant waters now,
don't forget to swim.

cheers, to the pain
to the boy who forgot your name
to the one who makes you crazy
to the ones getting faded

hold your head up high and your drink up higher