Machines


I don’t know much, but I know that I’m clean.
You rather sleep with him then be with me.
We oil our parts just like we’re machines,
And I’m drinking way too much.
Monkeys fling shit, while we throw stones.
As vultures eat flesh and leave just the bones.
I rather walk away then return home,
And I’m thinking way too much.

I’m having trouble, asking for directions.
Bad grammar pled for incorrect corrections.
Well I never asked, but you answered my questions.
They turned about and started fucking dancing.

I wouldn’t know shit even if I stepped in it.
Witnessed a few things, your love I’ve missed.
I’m feeling aware, quite frankly I’m pissed,
And I’m drinking way too much.
I’m like fog rising from a lake,
Sour tongue swells, pupils dilate.
Reality suggests you hold interest in me,
And I’m thinking way too much.

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