See here's the thing,
I'm a fucked up slag, but who was the one
that started this ugly trend?
I know who I caught it from,
but what miserable bloke began it?
Whoever he is can go straight to hell on horseback
and pray to GOD he's not sent back.
That's sort of funny to think of someone
praying to god while descending into hell, isn't it?
But maybe hell isn't what we all think it is.
Maybe we're all fools in hell right now, praying to god.
Then, we'd all be contagious fucked up slags if we ever found out.
Maybe this world is slowly imploding,
and all of us are praying too loudly to allow our ears
to hear.
Maybe if we sat quietly for a moment,
we could recognize the lies in front of our faces;
the feeling that erases the credibility of any time spent with you.
It's not enough to drink gingerale
when sweet (pea) tea is just an arm's reach away.
Of course everyone chooses sweet tea on a hot summer's day!
Gingerale is only for mixing states of the mind;
midnight is when everyone calls upon gingerale for a good time.
If Dante allowed this ring of burning flesh
to melt from my skin and envelop the rest,
think of what else the man can do!
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