take a bow

THE GAG IS ON ME.
FOOL TO THINK
I MISSED IT
FUCKED IT UP
AGAIN
GOT KOCKY?
KROTCH ROCK ME
SOCK ME
FROG POCKS ME
WISH MYSELF
DEFILED
QUARTERED
FLAYED ALIVE
STARVED LIKE JESUS
BASKING IN THE SUN
I HIT MYSELF IN THE HEAD SO HARD I MADE MY OWN EARS RING TODAY
TO MY DISMAY I DID NOT LAY DOWN DEAD WHERE I WAS I AM UNDEAD
RISE ABOVE WHAT? CANT IT BE THAT IT WAS ALL SO SIMPLE THE GOOD
OLD DAYS THAT WILL NEVER BE IS THE PAST JUST SOME FANTASY THAT
I FIND MYSELF TRYING TO LIVE UP TO BEFORE AND ITS NEVER THAT GOOD
AFTER A WHILE THE MEMORIES WILL BE ALL THAT ARE LEFT IN MY HEAD
ITS LIKE SHEENA SAID WHEN I SPIED I WILL AS SHE SO QUAINTLY PUT
"be one of those guys who dies alone and spends his life feeling sorry for himself"
i had an idea that she was right but i guess i put too much faith into myself and not
enough in God because I swear he gave me a chance and i pissed it away because
i take an inch and take a lightyear and i manifest what i lacked as a child because
for some reason or another not enough times of mine had smiles and i wisked away
in busts of glee and at night my own voice was the only thing for me to hear in the cold
and loud hot quiet summer nights where i lay in my father's second hand room once removed
from his version of my stephanie but he had a heads up and strong family ties now the economy
has been stripped of the lies only one bastard child, I, had he to support doubt he like i now had
such constant want to contort and suffacate with a noose round my neck and watch dead as somebody comes in to inspect why Ryan wasnt anywhere to be found today and they all will wonder and then want to say that the good in us all is there inside his casket and that pushed pulled and torn up he oft not flipped but grass sits still minds and rhymes only pass times between the torment inside of my soul for the lack of understanding and the will once and for all to be happy upon my own bodies way yet my mind makes me mention that even the bread makes one act upon influences not really known so i cant fault myself for i feel fine while im stoned wish now i in Rome way back in the day for Id get stoned to death for saying what i say this free society they call it is a jungle as sinclair says and i can certainly see what he visioned in his head what is read is whats said in an unconcious way and impossible is it for me to ever say what i dont say, this way off into a different wave flow is the only best possible way that i know not to end all the madness i live everyday tragic is becoming this so called life play