Grey Goose Booty Call

I’ve come to the end of the world. My thoughts far behind me, Trailing on their backs, With ten pounds of guilt. Their shoulders broaden as the miles lengthen Into time and calories lost I want to look over the edge But not before my mind makes its appearance I haven’t been waiting long My watch is slow My mouth fumbling Nonsense and hard liquor drip from my lips I am horrified with the idea of sobriety It’s a stitched face with scars and blisters Calling my name from the lushes of conformed living Besides you look beautiful, And yelling blows a load on the world a nice glaze of dishonesty where i can feel at home. "Thank God for the rain to wash the trash off the sidewalk."-Travis Bickle