NOT ENOUGH INK FOR THE DRAGONS WHO WRITE

BRINGING CLEAR VODKA IN WATER TYPE GAMES-TO MY ALCHOLIC FRIENDS GIVEN TO CAGES

FROM CHARITYS FLICK OF THE KEY

LAYING IN BEDS SUBTRACTED FROM HISTORY

WE LISTEN IN GRAVEYARDS TO BOWIES -ZIGGY ON MARS

I FIND MYSELF DRINKING WHISKY WITH SHADOWS ALL OF YOU RAN AWAY

AND A HATER OF LIFE -I SPLASH AROUND IN POOLS OF IRONY

VOICES LIKE SWEAT ROLL FROM MY MIRROR FACE -

AND LOVERS TELL ME OF THEIR GOOD GRACE

THE PICTURES ON THE WALL, WERE THEY CROOKED BEFORE

ANOTHER DRINK MY FRIEND WE CAN ALWAYS SAY THAT HUNTER S THOMPSON

ABDUCTED OUR LIVERS

AND WE ARE RELUCTANT TO PAY

NOW IN POETIC STYLE I NOTICE THE DARKNESS -WRAPPED IN SHROUDS AND HIDING IN MY LIKENESS

IM DOWN BY THE RIVER ITS QUIET AND STILL

WOULD I SWIM ITS DEPTHS IN THE DARK OF MY DEATH

AND IM STANDING IN THE EARTH -ITS COOL AND HEALING

COULD I JUST GO TO SLEEP,AND WAIT UNTIL MAY WHEN THE BLOSSUMS WEEP

I JUST WANT TO SLEEP

HEAD TO HEAD ON A FLOOR OF WOOD