study class, sitt down.

Poetry has no place for a heart that’s a whore
And I’m young and I’m strong
But I feel old and tired
Over fired

And I’ve been poked and stoked
It’s all smoke, there’s no more fire
Only desire
For you, whoever you are
For you, whoever you are

You say my time here has been some sort of joke
That I’ve been messing around
Some sort of incubating period
For when I really come around
But I’m cracking up
And you have no idea

No idea how it feels to be on your own
In your own home
With the fucking phone
And the mother of gloom
In your bedroom
Standing over your head
With her hand in your head
With her hand in your head

I will not pretend
I will not put on a smile
I will not say I’m alright for you
When all I wanted was to be good
To do everything in truth
To do everything in truth

Oh I wish, I wish, I wish I was born a man
So I could learn how to stand up for myself
Like those guys with guitars
I’ve been watching in bars
Who’ve been stamping their feet to a different beat
To a different beat

I will not pretend
I will not put on a smile
I will not say I’m alright for you
When all I wanted was to be good
To do everything in truth
To do everything in truth

You bloody motherfucking asshole
You bloody motherfucking asshole
You bloody motherfucking asshole
You bloody

I will not pretend
I will not put on a smile
I will not say I’m alright for you
When all I wanted was to be good
To do everything in truth
To do everything in truth

"It’s just another day
Nothing in my way
I don’t wanna go
I don’t wanna stay
So there’s nothing left to say?"

jag tänkte skriva heltballt om kryssningen med sköna brudar, dyngraka finnar och en och annan halvspanjon men jag kom av mig så de får bli en annan gång. för att bara sammanfatta det hela kan jag ju iaf säga att så mycket har jag inte dansat till män i blåaskjortor på år och dar.

för övrigt har jag lust å radera igen för när jag trodde att jag faktiskt skulle kunna få lägga mig rätt nöjd, fick jag yttligare ett knytslag rätt i mellangärdet som sa åt mig att fortfarande vilja vakna upp imorgon som någon annan. helvete. hur kan människor vara så elaka?

nu blir det vatten å bröd i en vecka. sen super jag skallen av mig.