Is this it? Is this shit…all we get?
I am confounded, befuzzled, I am blowing sideways in this storm of shit
I am watching the seconds, minutes, hours of this life pass by waving
Their long, fading fingers at me, they are shaking their heads in shame
Why do you sit on your ass? Because it is here to be sat on.
Because I am not good enough, because someone is better than me.
My own fatigue begets more fatigue, and shame, and that leads the lazy.
The pressure. The PRESSURE.
Til I am blue in the face, an excuse for you, second, about why you flew out the window
After that blackbird on the telephone wire, after he saw something greener over there.
Child prodigy? More like mid-life loser, someone who is no longer
So young to be so smart. Today is Better get moving. Time’s wasting. What’s taking so long? Get off your ass. No more excuses. Tomorrow- there’s always tomorrow until there’s not.
Roads on Her Face 