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It used to matter whether or not the bad guys won.
It used to matter what people thought and did with their lives.
But it's all disposable, like a voided cheque, made out to someone who used to care...
but doesn't anymore, or passed away in their sleep.
If I keep giving my best, is anyone going to notice?
God, I hope I'm not doing it to get noticed.
I just think about how thing could be
and about how things are
and about how things were
and I swear that I was born in the wrong decade sometimes
and that I've already went through a whole string of events in my mind which were accomplished by someone with the same name and face as me, but living in a different generation and set of plywood rules.
2+2 will always equal 22
and it feels like I'll always be trying to disprove that
and I'll work myself into a frenzy and an early grave doing it.
Things get used and wear out at ridiculous paces,
and God, I hope I'm not wearing out.
How much is a piece of peace of mind anyhow?
What do I have to fork over for a good nights sleep again?
Breast implants and rigged Oscar nights.
Car accidents and gun control.
Pep pills and date rape.
And my thoughts about the issues, the un-issues
and a handful of change I can find wandering the streets beaten and alone
will get me a fistfull of chemically enhanced gummy bears.
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