Fingers soaked in hard lemonade,
Putting the anger, away in the shade,
Numbing the poet,
Withdrawing the words,
Erasing the ink,
Cutting the cords,
Sadness only rears, it's weepy face,
When pockets are empty,
And there's no escape.
Fear of living,
This glorious life,
Has drowned any hope,
Of feeling alive...
