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Home of the Stoner
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poems I got her off her innocent face
Tipped her back up and sat her down
Got to keep her wider than awake
Porcelain glorified ecstacy drowned
We went fishing for reality
Dipping in the fashion of the skinny
On a field trip to fatality
Persuit of a liquid filled tinny
Grasping for the fiction
Laughing in line for the punch
Paper plate to feed my addiction
Losing me, using me, call it a hunch
Fuel my lust for illusion
Beckon her track back on side
Daily dosage of sheer confusion
Wide unblinkered vision eyed
I think it's about time I went home
