He’s a happy guy but riddled with toxicity.
He doesn’t want to die he just wants his life as he knows it to end.
Hooked up to all culture’s most poisonous habits.
An infection.
A boy looking up to a world of lifestyle comparison.
Stone, chemical, claustrophobic habitats.
Freedom chases you in the form of slick car adverts,
you just can’t get away from ultra cool pain.
A boy running through a field of urban misery.
Deep thoughts bore him, he’s only interested in killer one liners of the most escapist variety.
The ones that really know what they’re saying.
Whisky, blood, heavy boots stumbling on wood.
He can’t make it through the day without a drink behind closed doors.
Toxic blood and deep breaths,
never happier than when death closes ever further in.
There’s a breath more chemical than human and a look in your eye, like you’re lost in your own solace.
Everyone has problems, but it’s not bleeding into their lives quite like yours,
blood toxicity is too high to justify.
An intervention.
But smile baby and drink up tonight, you’ll be alright up in the sky.
