slow motion cigarettes hang from your sweaty lips
five bottles of stale, pissy ale
stumble to your pale wrists thin man
with unkept hair clean shave but a glassy stare
you've lost it all boy and so young
I'll remember times like these with a bit of satisfaction
I remember somber days and with more to come
surely won't forget them
stick figure twig of a boy toothy grin
a slim bit of poise he says
"I'll take you down with one blow"
and though we laugh, he does quite well
these are times where we all look onward
not what's now but what's to come
a lot of pride and a shade of hope
am I the only one who gets the fucking joke?