I woke up tired this morning.
nothing to do.
nothin to see.
just another day to bathe in the reflections of me.
and to wish to taste that thing I used to be.
another year goes by
better yet, on
another tune
another song
as we wait it seems long
but when it's through it's never gone
but again we wait.
and we shake and move making a strange vibration across our staged rouse
walkin upon a world and pray to leave a bruise behind for some one.
anyone or thing to see.
and so many of us in the bar tonight tied to desperation for a sensation after this supposed party.
this home. this hole
this scene a scream for white powder or green leaf after we leave behind these amber drinks
something to smoke, pop or snort so we can tweek.
a desperate end to a numb begining.
and none of know why. hell we just wanna get high enough to fuck.
and we wanna get wasted if we're not going to.
it's this ID thing ya never bothered to understand
this desperate death inside the man
the guilt that makes a deadmans hand reach across a stage for scream
but sadly to most it don't mean a thing
cause the boos of the boozers don't understand what it takes to be here and be your own band.
and cheers of the cheerful are the only thing that keeps some coming back.
why?
it's always about you, didn't know?
what you like what you don't like
all of us just shady men in shadows
fucking in dirty gas pump bathrooms
demons of decadence and ones who could be no prouder
but what have you done but become one's drug
or step to power. so casual. so useless. so lifeless.
when it's what they want they love you when it's what they need they use you.
who are they?
there you.
and me.
and you.
and she.
and you.
and he.
and us.
but you'll never find them cause none of us are ever here.
see we're all waiting for the next big thing
the next song
the next band
the next drink
the next need to fill a need we built to feed the thing inside our head
that egotistical superego of superflous pretention
that let's us be a rock star for a night.
and as that weekend fades the tour will move to the next and you'll be just as hexed to do that same thing
a different in the same crowd with different faces.
so remember to plug your album and sell your shirts
sign a breast or 2 and flirt
and let that demon take you over
and pray to god you wake up sober cause hey fuckers,
it's only friday night.
