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Broadway Calls
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Wildly Swinging
Sleeping pills and vodka on a Friday night.
Wake in time to go to church on Sunday.
Despite reports of my collapse, I'm ok.
Thriving Winter, dying liver, empty mailbox, fucked speakers,
And I heard we finished last in the gimmick parade.
You draw the line.
I cross it every time you feel the need to remind me of where to be.
And it Works, you see, because you're not like me.
As you live of hating others.
I'll be singing with my brothers.
Waste your time on me.
Tear me down if you need.
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You butt of the joke.
You're against the ropes and wildly swinging.
Angry former lovers make my stomach knot.
I'm a failed writer mostly in the evenings.
Don't like what you hear?
You're the one that preaches, never hides feelings.
I dare you to dance to opinions of stowaways.
Waste your time on me.
Tear me down if you need.
We both live off being clever, but nothing last forever.
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