It is hard to get up some days,
Laying here in this haze of silence.
No energy to see the consequences,
Or even care about influences
That yell at me to wake the fuck up.


Even Cobain created shouts of angst,
Swore he didn’t have a gun!

What could my consciousness do
To stop the man who sold the world?
Who would even care or
Miss that I was not there?
Or here?
Or anywhere?


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allets's picture

World For Sale

I'd be there and put in a bid. It's not the worst by a long shot, it's the only one and worth waking to 90% of the time. I toast the 10% with very old booze and WTF, there's aways love and that's kinda cool. But I heard the need for not moving or not wanting to, or not being able to right now. Yeah, me too sometimes - Lady A