Take a look at your foot does it fit this shoe
Did you ever think I gave a damn about you
You ain’t no messiah with your fancy friends
So get your head out of the clouds
And get your feet back in the dirt my friend
I need to pick myself up,
Off a ground I’ve fallen on many times before,
Yet I ignore the warnings and foreshadowing,
Which I must know by now is indeed an indicator.
Sometimes I feel supported,
Though often I feel like I’m balancing on one foot,
Every hop is another attempt at regaining control,
But for now I’m happy enough to keep hopping just not to fall,
For beggars can’t be choosers.
One time I saw a man offer a homeless man a bagel,
And on the subway car uptown,
The less fortunate soul turned it down,
Only to take it on second offer.
I saw that man trying to sell that same sandwich,
For he was too stubborn for a fix to realize what he had.
Maybe we’re all trying to do things that further complicate,
And dig us further in the six foot hole we’ll all end up in.
If the Grateful Dead came to town, I’d beat my way in with a fucking tire iron, if necessary.
DUDE I WANT TO TEXT YOU NOT YOUR FUCKING GIRLFRIEND.
I HATE GIRLS WHO RUN THEIR BOY’S PHONES. FUCK.
Honey, come home
My stubborn ways are behind me now
"Someday," you said
Someday you will miss my head
Lyin’ next to yours
In our marriage bed
I don’t wanna live
But I sure don’t wanna die