Caustic Soda Humour Me
Nine bourbons refuse to pick me up to bring me down, and
so I try for ten. One of those nights where I know I am
only as good as the size of my enemies. Unapproachable by
default. Take me with a grain of salt. A poor excuse for
attention, a student sent to detention for not submitting
homework given. For allowing you to leave. Keep the
window slightly ajar. Cut me free, distract the guard.
Humour me, lie to me, pretend to take me seriously. I
think theres more to this. My moneys on a mistake. Ill
sit and wait and pass the time, whatever it takes to
change a mind whoever minds. When all patches have been
sewed well have no holes to fall in. Elbows tilted, hips
adjoined, well drink to this solution. Humour me, lie to
me, pretend to take me seriously. Maybe its a tried tale
and our enemies will always grow in size. Maybe were
rehearsing for the second time, that last until we die.
