If we would let fly words like drinking tequila neat.
Not mincing words
Not counting the times we fuxked pieces of ourselves up
I think we would drink up bottles.
If you meant when you said you are sorry
And yet your words fly dangerously
More dangerously than imaginary fits
Would I behave,
Behave so recklessly.
I’m tired of labels
and old fashion pieces that weigh on me
Dragging me in the mud with no name or place.
I shot blanks you shot like a machine gun spuring hatred
warm like the summer’s pissed falling down on us.
Humorous isn’t it
That we are so called who we are
Living the life
Living the dream
Pretending we ain’t for others to see.