It’s late at night and I’m writing on the pad again/

the light is bad in bed, laying on my back with pen/

day is far away, I wonder if it’s coming back again/

something is happening/ I may never sleep or nap again/

so I sneak an aspirin for relief, in stacks of ten/

10 shots of nightquil then I’m blackin out like Africans/

eyelids are heavy so I sneak a peak at the back of them/

when I’m asleep I know I can’t relapse again/

restin my eyes, their stressed, but I’m just relaxing them/

my habits back, my habitats attacked by men/

I’m not an addict but the attic’s where I hide my gin/

an empty bottle’s what the juice is in/

In life I’m lost buy I used to win/

the social lubricant, alcohol, the lube is in/

out in the hall I choose to snif two tubs of glue/

an use it to improve my grin/

yea I’m smiling, boozing and drunk dialing/

call a few reporters to report the mood that I am in/

if lying is a sport, I’m as truthful as an ironman/

honestly I’m not a fan of ruling with an iron hand/

Egypt to Afghanistan Libya to Pakistan, , Iraq, Iran, Israel, all the way to Ireland/

Japan is now on fire and we’re losing other islands, let’s have a violin instead of all the violence/

followed by some peace and some quiet, sleep is now a science and I study in the silence.

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