If you ride the wind,
Or at least motor yourself,
On a schooner out to ten pound island,
You may have the luxury of meeting Mooch.
He is the seagull who likes Cheetos.
Life for Mooch is simple,
All he has to do is sit on the arm of Owen,
The boy who pulls the sails
Or Captain Harold,
The man who built the boat,
And eat enough Cheetos to stuff his throat.
He never tells any of his friends,
For fear of missing out on Cheetos.
Oh, to be a seagull.
Oh, to mooch off of others
And still be loved.

I fought against this life as hard as a scared child could and it still didn't work
I tried my hardest to be truly alive but I was too weak
I have no choice in being this way

you threw your life away because you couldn't be bothered to live it

Buddy Buzzkill
Waits ‘til nobody’s home
Jimmies a window, sneaks in
And is free to roam.
He smokes all the dope
Drinks all the alcohol
Eats all the food
Until none is left at all.
Then he sleeps in your bed
And sneaks back out again
He comes back; hears you moan
How somebody broke in
And robbed him when he was not home.

Buddy Buzzkill
He’s a special king of louse.
He pretends to like you
Then, sleeps with your spouse.
He’ll hit you up for money
Then he’ll borrow your car.
And you lend it to him
That’s the kind of sap you are.
What is it about this guy
That makes it hard to say no?
Why does it not occur to folks
To look at him and say, “Blow!”

Buddy Buzzkill
He’s a master at telling tales
Of people he has laid
And the times he was in jail
For some ludicrous reason
That is always the fault of others.
He tell you how much you mean
And that you are like brothers
And then one morning you rise
And your stereo is gone
And so is Buddy Buzzkill
It’s time for him to move on.

The fakers are takers,
giving to no one,
living a lie,
destroying one's soul,
merely to accomplish their goal.
Take what they can,
like a parasite,
stealing your goods,
then taking flight.
But like a mosquito,
their life is not long,
******* blood gets old,
until they **** the wrong arm.
Slap.