Gates

I am the pain that beats through your temples, every morning when you wake up. I am the boy with alcohol poisoning, from all the parties Chris was throwing that summer they took us in, like every other American, for getting drunk around back of a lions club, waiting for the shitty bands to finish up, and some kids played hacky sack while the others just got high. Its not hard to fall for a waitress, when you both smoke the same cigarettes, you’ll get seated as diners or lovers, you’ll get the check as friends for the better, you’ll carve your names into the Paupack cliffs just to read them when you get old enough to know that happiness is just a moment. So I’m marching up to your gates to today to throw my lonely soul away, cause I don’t need it you can take it back. And they will make examples out of us, like when they caught you in the CVS parking lot, but I fed the liars everything I got, in my cabinet brain of canned thoughts.