i'm smoking something and i
don't know what the hell it is;
i'm seeing things that [send] are
sending me into six kinds of fits;
boys on their knees at the feet of priests
and my son making a call from jail to me.
where did you run to late last night after
we started to ignore the electronic snow?
i wanted to follow you so i could find you;
next time when you leave, just please, walk slow.
the night was black, but my eyes were starred;
i'm trying to give you up, but it's just so hard.
when my brother asked me what i wanted for christmas,
i told him a bottle of johnnie walker would be nice.
throw me into space so i can miss all my friends.
throw me in the backseat and read me my rights.
there's no higher place or broader scale here;
just an empty man surrounded by empty cans of beer.
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