“Yeah, we were lovers…”

Yeah, we were lovers
by the silvery f*@#$&* moon
now I’m in the dark
left to play the goon

like a cool summer breeze
without no reason why
she was steppin’ on the Greyhound
but damned if I’ll cry

now I live in a haze
blinded by bleeding love
there’s no more green grass
no more f*&^%$# doves

and no more giggles
no more black and white nights
no more shining sun
not the slightest bit of light

oh, but there’s cigarette butts
and oh, so much beer
a lot of empty pizza boxes
a s@#$-load of misery here

my pain, it grows a beard
my broken soul chain-smokes
no more comedy in my life
although it’s a f*&^%$# joke

a stain in the night sky
a blur on the screen
echoes in the lonely abyss
a hollow empty scream
(too f@#$%^& deep)

(from “Part Three: Seduced By Fantasy…”)

Desolation much?


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