I Think I Might Be Dying

There's a million things i should hear

But they all fail to reach my ear

Perfume still burnt on my lips

Hypnotized by the swinging of hips

Still press on like a set of Lee's nails

Searching for long haired holy grails

Only one thing to do at times like this

But of what that is i'm clueless

I don't feel any proximity

The only one standing next to I is me

My head is splitting from the symmetry

Waiting for the grave to set me free

I don't mistake i don't partake

In the acts of the altruistic fake

In fact I am left out of the right

And figure out the underground under cover of night

Prudence and chivalry are good and nice

But its less fun to be men then mice

So I think i'll scrap these theories and thoughts

And drink until the misery pops

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