Depressed Morbid Nights
One of these depressed, depraved, morbid nights
I shall awake to the God damned game of life
And sit under the graying light
Of the foolish full moon
And laminate upon my luminance
And chew up the garments of past lives
And cry my soul
But no one will hear the plight of my mind
On strike for better wages
And more love
Thus, I will sit, and think and dream
Dreams that no one ever before dreamt
It is so very lonely being a foolish lunatic
But then as I drink to oblivion
I begin to think
Of all those things that I have not experienced
And wonder with a vengeance
Why God hates me so
Or is it only an illusion?
When will I awake
Or do we just sit waiting for more beer
To cover up
The stench of putrid rotting flesh
Waiting for death to take us away
To the Cosmic garbage dump in the sky
Trying to communicate across a gap
That is light years’ long
And will never close
For man was not made to know
The real thoughts of another
Man was made to suffer, cry and wait
For the party in Hell afterwards
, let’s us die and be done with it
Or live without our God damned dreams
Running our thoughts
Into pits of depraved madness
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