maybe I'll write a poem today
I've usually got something to say,
"it's a bottle of gin"
or "it's the tip of a pin"

but maybe today
I don't have something to say
nothing to share
no forced care

I don't have something to say
maybe next tuesday

i keep repeating the same **** over and over again
i'm too full of pride and guiltless sin
to even begin thinking of how to start again