Five years, stuck on my eyes
Five years, what a surprise
Five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, that's all we've got
David Bowie"Five yrars"
The scornful days. My coffee's bliss.
Our mornings bring some new frustration.
Gray sterile grounds without a kiss;
I've lost my sex. Uncelebration.
Contorted creases of my brain
Forbid divine consideration.
So fucking useless hero am I with my pain
That's stuck in someone else's adoration.
Your cards conceal a winning lot
I don't know whether I can even try
I must, I should, and I ought not
I'll give my shameless finger right to the scared sky
Street smoke will cushion our talk
You want to scream you meant no pain - too late
Forget, remember, change, repent and walk
I bring my own rules at your game's gate
You need my hand - so here's your pistol
You want a game - the winner loses all
You read a novel - I promise a bad ending
No rights or wrongs - your will and freedom mixed
/Morr/