begin. end.

what's more to hate
when insobreity finally succumbs.
my hapiness is but gratified
and to where must i be lead?
135,000 suffered
the fireworks
the jagermeister
the red wine
the cinematic king
politics
this motherless nation
... how fruitful it is to be drunk for the passing
the year of...
and the holidays that passed
seemed to fade to an etch
of endless scars
and of crooked dreams reminding me how it seems
to count your blessings
as you live in this wasteland
where you feel god's wrath

alone.

count it all
mid, first and last
the person next to you
never did have that chance:

it musn't end
though where i am
it never did begin
and tommorow
we all sin
must we choose the bitter way
to drink wine before its gone?
and so we have it either way
we all sing the same song:

the refrain goes:

"how elementary our despair is
and for the fortunate
they're drinks are the most filled,
blood
more blood
and more to spill.."

how fruitful it is to be drunk for the passing

and to those i cheer who give me a toast:
for our woes remain,
and forever will it be..
as we all fight to be sane..

i hate this world
i love this life
i love this hate
i hate this love
cry
but the tears run out...
this is the wasteland we all say goodnight to