Pining For Skywriting

I don’t write no more.
I don’t fight no more.
I just lay down and die some more…
Got me spitting out love songs, ya dumb Pisces.
Got me sitting in a tumbler tumbling in the high seas.
My brain was never great but it’s getting dumb and dumber.
A stranger in a strainer fuck that one is the strongest number.

Do you remember the day I told you I’d never stray?
Do you remember the brake lights the night I drove away?

I tell people I no longer write.
I tell people I no longer sing.
I never did in the first place I mean.
I tell them I’m one of those floating human beings…
Sixteen going on forty-something what a wonderful dream.
Baby pink first thing we do when we come into the world is scream.

I’m not a scary man I like my life medium rare
with a side of Ginger and Marianne.

Give my your electrocuted rain-soaked puppy dogs to hold.
Give me a dimple made of Astroturf I’ll make sure it’s asshole proof.
Give me a place to hide and a wave to ride I’ll give you an amazing alibi.

Just get me out of here.
Get me a stout of beer.

My resting state is always on the run.
My brain is like a hummingbird.
My hands are browsers running through your hair.
Daughter of an anvil son of a semi-automatic gun.

Anybody that sells you the world thinks they’re the center of it.
Sign up for my newsletter I’ll tell you how to get better.
I’ll tell you how to get perfect sitting on your perch of shit.

It’s 2018 and I’m not waiting and I’m not writing.
I’m just whining I’m like everybody else pining
for skywriting.

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