This madness haunts our souls
Night after night we drown our demons in exchange for new ones
Night after night with bottle in one hand, joint in the other we find our temporary salvation
Only to be damned in the morning.
Drunken train rides filled with words words words words words
Words haunting my soul tearing my sanity
Longing for two things, print and love, a love of print and a printed form of love.
Dreams of damnation and revelation revealing the horrible truth of reality
The inconsequential consequence of life
So we sift through these bottles, ashes, and words words words words words
Searching for personal salvation
And only digging deeper downwards delving to damnation.
Damnation of obscurity.
Forgotten, alone, insane, with a bottle in one hand, a joint in the other
Searching for personal salvation
