caught up in the mix,
rolling in the shit,
drowning deep in a puddle of the sorely outlived.
searching for answers to questions,
new questions to pose:
am i really this fucked?
guess i'll never really know till i try it.
open up and take in,
till i break all the rules,
wash my body in the sins of all those who i'd warned against using in the past.
till i experience linoleum floors beneath my back.
covered in vomit and wine,
there's a smile on my face,
'cause i may smell a bit funky,
but i'm back in the race for emphatic good times,
with true friends and old foes.
so hate mongers go home,
'cause this is a new market and i ain't buying...