Slow motion cigarettes
Hang from your sweaty lips
Five bottles of stale, p___y ale
You stumble to your pale wrists
A thin man with unkept hair
Clean shave, but a glassy stare
And you've lost it all boy, and so young

I'll remember times like these with a bit of satisfaction
I remember somber days and with more to come, surely won't forget them.

Stick figure twig of a boy
A toothy grin, a slim bit of poise
He says "I'll take you down with one blow" and though we laugh, he does quite well.

These are times where we all look onward not what's now, but what's to come
A lot of pride and a shade of hope, am I the only one who gets the f___ing joke?

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