This is where I truly belong
Wasted and bruised at the dawn
A cigarrete hanging from my lips
Fingers burned and alcohol treats
She's as numb as she could be
Yet, she could care less for me
Her hair in a disarray
The sun peeks, she blurts "I'm OK"
Isn't there a soul in this global scam
That picks up the phone at 4 am?
Isn't there a world under these lights
Filled with promises and fist fights?
Aren't there stories of my own kind
Melodies of dope and wine?
This air is filled with all sorts of voice
Some are high, some paranoid
They say they want to go everywhere
We have a few hours to not really care
The bus went by, we're calling faces
And foreshadowing numerous disgraces
She sleeps on my shoulder, it's full morning
The hours killed, no more warnings
Isn't there a way in this hellbent maze
To shortcut me to the daze?
Isn't there a stop in the way around
Where you just go down and down?
And isn't there a body to keep me in check?
To send my wail to white and back?