Why dont you sit and entertain yourselves While I lay it down on you When a day comes to make itself It knows to die before it makes its prime All this bullshit I cant understand Why would you fake your phobia You wont prescribe me my smile anymore I fought in a fucking war He would scream bitterly As if the age hadnt affected him at all Its the nay of victory Had given him the blindness To all things contrast to focus A continuous drown of all Deafly loud enough to scoff at His years now have to tiptoe around him He still cowers To tibbons Somewhere in there may be will to remember Well see you next week A new addition to your old one Dont you fucking dare My memories keep me company
tibbons, deafly, cowers, tiptoe, prescribe