Jobless Blues

I need to work

I need to pay taxes

I need a slave driver

I need to send out faxes

I need a good life 

I need to make it happen 

I need to hang myself

Slash my wrist or drown myself

Swallow a bottle of prescription pills

Suicide may not be an option

May be they lied and said I died

MY last attempt was not self-righteous

I hung out in a room without a view

My neighbors attacked indirectly

They were only trying to break my shell

Outside I am more dead than alive

Inside my shell I could play video games

Outside of my shell it's all a bore

Sit here at my bed side while I weep

I can not wake up, I can not sleep

Shifting conscience awareness

I didn't get the job pumping gas

But I got the world's attention through broken glass

This is my ascention everything shall pass

Sifting through the ashes to find five dollars to buy a can of beer

Picking buts to roll myself a cigarette out of loose leaf paper oh I'm suffering here

It could be worse I could be dead 

This hotel room has four walls and a roof over my head

I move frome place to place like a Gipsy king and I won't make it home it seems