True story, last New Year's Eve I passed out before the count down even started, now it's not a Thursday and there's no jet black hair dye, I'm not on LSD I'm just trying to be open-hearted
I might clean this room today with the help of "Betti Cola" or "Yank Crime" and we might sit in the dark in the middle of the kitchen drinking 40 ounce drinks we bought to help us pass the time, and you might get pissed off cuz you can't vote against the drone war, the foreign policy debate was such a joke, but try try try to keep the bitterness at bay. Please don't burn your own friends when we're all already choking on the smoke
St. Francis of Assisi marks the graves of the dogs that I was raised beside, and now the soul of Laser's treading water in a man made lake, in an afternoon that I have to believe God will provide
In an afterlife I have to believe his God will provide
And from the afterlife I still hear his funny way of howling out his last goodbyes
"You are not a failure and I won't give up on you"
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