Whatever you like

Sun burns down and away with the curve ball on the end of my smoke
as alive as the city is at the moment it is far from well and neither am I
the word future comes to my mind looking across the streets filled with people
it is a small reminder of what will pass,come to pass
all that jazz that most of us prepare for
I watch the vultures looking for scraps of a good time
after all that is all I am
the aftermath
spare parts of a smile with stories to match the bleeding on the sleeve
there is no wonder in all of this nor is there any damn rhyme that will make it all better
words on crumbled paper from the empty pockets fall through the feet of the crowd
no feelings to fight
no sense in the sight
small doses of sanity are outweighed by the blind leading with the rum
I will let you name this as the bone words are picked to shreds
take a name and you call it that
dissect and frame it
put it on your wall
the band aid on my fine china with gleaming plastic cutlery
pour my fucking drink,I will say thank you and let’s get on with it
I am tired of the story to which I know how it’s going to go down
no princess in the castles,as charming as I seem I am not a prince
no matter how many times you try to kiss me
the march will go by,along with the sun
and I will head to Oblivion St. and 4th


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