As a drunk MAN i totally just found myself within the hold the complete
of professional sports, FOOTBALL, to be precise and the playoffs which will be the grip of it all, which will be the final piece, the final elimination of all things.
It's irrelevant. It's the career of some professional... Irrelevant... Doesn't relate, like some movie star and his change, and i'm thinking OH SHIT!! it might be that he might be a game out of the playoff race and what is he doing at home?
and i'm shivering because it's so cold
because there aint much that's happening here
(3am by matchbook romance)
and oh wow... OH WOW...
WHERE AM I GOING AFTER THIS?
No regret. No reward.
And now i pay my tab
and hope to leave
with the correct tab/tip left
and driving home
is a bet with the kind of hope
means that i made it home.
I shiver like no one knows what's
and a guy with a motley crue
shirt tells me i'm the kind of guy
that will date lady gaga.