send me a smile, light me a fire
make this stop breaking in place it shouldn't
let us get higher than your parents ever did.
for the past nine months i've been sweating like rocks in the sun on a day in july in the middle of the earth with the fireplace on
and it hurts to pretend that we're not gonna drown like the rest of the sorry sad fucks that get wise and turn ugly and break promises and light fires.
send me a smile, light me a fire.
if attitudes meant everything, i'd be a murderer and a theif and they'd hang me in town square just to watch me pee my pants
and i'd let them and give them a show, i'd drink so much water the day before the janitor would go on strike. but its not my world to premeditate post mortem instances in life. i only control what i can hardly handle. doesn't that sound familiar.
send me a smile, light me a fire.
and if these hands didn't create such idle lamentations and the bastardized version of good times medication didn't hurt so fucking much to swallow that it made you tear up, or could it possibly be we're all just a little to sensitive when it comes to being selfish and wanting to burn this place to the ground? lets get serious for a minute and pretend we all mean something to at least someone, who do the fuck do we think we are taking our loved ones lives into our own hands and heads and minds and lips and fingers.
send me a smile, light me a fire.
its getting colder out. i bundle up wiith a welcoming anticipation of chest colds and sub zero parlays with mother N and her ravenous ensemble of snows and rains and sleets and winds and depressions and luls. in the same instance it gets so much closer to the eruption of what might never see the light of day. a roll of the dice and a clearing of the throat is all we can rely on and hope for and dream of.
send me a smile, light me a fire.
so fuck off with this worried shit, and do me the pleasure of not caring at all. i'm fine, we're all fine, shit we just got back from the mall. with the noises and children and incredulous merchants. so joyous a time as this, what dignity is there in weaving tales of sorrow and misery. but stop with the pleasentries of a day once recreated too many times to count and too little too often.
send me a smile, light me a fire.
in length i digress, in short, lets get started, the thrill of standing on the roof and watching yourself change can scare a weak soul into stern alcoholism. i take pride in my ability to evolve so rapidly-and efficiently, that i can't even begin a meal without growing tired of it before its over. so i'll pass on the pity and schmooze with the cold bite of consequence and solidarity, if it means a better, harder, leaner waste and rock hard abs. bowflex. the total gym.
send me a smile, light me a fire.
let us get higher than your parents ever did.
for the past nine months i've been sweating like rocks in the sun on a day in july in the middle of the earth with the fireplace on
and it hurts to pretend that we're not gonna drown like the rest of the sorry sad fucks that get wise and turn ugly and break promises and light fires.
send me a smile, light me a fire.
if attitudes meant everything, i'd be a murderer and a theif and they'd hang me in town square just to watch me pee my pants
and i'd let them and give them a show, i'd drink so much water the day before the janitor would go on strike. but its not my world to premeditate post mortem instances in life. i only control what i can hardly handle. doesn't that sound familiar.
send me a smile, light me a fire.
and if these hands didn't create such idle lamentations and the bastardized version of good times medication didn't hurt so fucking much to swallow that it made you tear up, or could it possibly be we're all just a little to sensitive when it comes to being selfish and wanting to burn this place to the ground? lets get serious for a minute and pretend we all mean something to at least someone, who do the fuck do we think we are taking our loved ones lives into our own hands and heads and minds and lips and fingers.
send me a smile, light me a fire.
its getting colder out. i bundle up wiith a welcoming anticipation of chest colds and sub zero parlays with mother N and her ravenous ensemble of snows and rains and sleets and winds and depressions and luls. in the same instance it gets so much closer to the eruption of what might never see the light of day. a roll of the dice and a clearing of the throat is all we can rely on and hope for and dream of.
send me a smile, light me a fire.
so fuck off with this worried shit, and do me the pleasure of not caring at all. i'm fine, we're all fine, shit we just got back from the mall. with the noises and children and incredulous merchants. so joyous a time as this, what dignity is there in weaving tales of sorrow and misery. but stop with the pleasentries of a day once recreated too many times to count and too little too often.
send me a smile, light me a fire.
in length i digress, in short, lets get started, the thrill of standing on the roof and watching yourself change can scare a weak soul into stern alcoholism. i take pride in my ability to evolve so rapidly-and efficiently, that i can't even begin a meal without growing tired of it before its over. so i'll pass on the pity and schmooze with the cold bite of consequence and solidarity, if it means a better, harder, leaner waste and rock hard abs. bowflex. the total gym.
send me a smile, light me a fire.
posted by honest at 7:13 AM
