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I drank myself each night so sure.
The days had gone like a careless breeze,
when all I know is enjoy all the space.
My lips are purple and all too simple
Bruised by the fun I’ve trampled upon
It lacks blood and I’ve made it look so bad,
leaving each stains of the fiery chains.
I stumble and vomit all the things I’ve poured in my sockets.
Twenty one years of fooling around left me all glad yet wounded.
I had enough of the things that made all the cravings
I stopped the chains and sprees, all with freewill.
What’s good about the things they say are bad?
It helps me shape the good things that I have
By showing the hideous in the other side
They made me realized what is essential for my part.
I had enough; I’ve played and live a life.
I’ve fooled around and mess a lot.
I even ruined myself to make a scratch
and made my list trim down for more certain acts.
Not everything is beautiful like not everything is forlorn;
Roses have thorns and flowers meet adversity to bloom.
If you’re the kind that wants undistorted piece of a whole that’s part a mess
I’d rather rest within the game than settle for a beautiful lame.
It’s like pouring tequila,
drinking ten consecutive shots of happiness
Enjoying its perfect taste like pasta,
not accepting that next is a day of dizziness.
You’re cursing the hang ups yet wanting another stirrup cup.
Loading yesterday, throwing up today;
Having fun today while hoping to learn someday;
Messing your way and clearing up comes payday.
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