[dead man]

it's a

canvas to fill, alcohol and capsules to kill.
looking forward for a family to build, drafting a will
for when it breaks apart and i'm right back to the grindstone
an Ativan silo sits on Capitol hill
it's fascist resilience to a southerner's drawl
i'm just a bill, which makes me nothing at all
it's cards against humanity, that's luck of the draw
i should be home, with all my should've-in-laws, drunker than Paul
and Jacob combined, darling you dated a swine
and expected prize piglets on the day we combined
may i recommend another glass of the red
you expected a proposal and i vanished instead
my decisions are the strangest part of looking behind
out of body memories, the daily reminders
waiting for a moving van, 11:05
Denise was asking how it's going, told her it's fine
what can you do, nothing to say, i've paid a deposit
unshackled my remains and left you space in the closet
lay me to coffin, make a profit, sell me to labs
i never had the insight that your therapist had
it's been about a year and a half, really its sad
how i drone about our past like some American anthem
but i miss it, sometimes. it was community, love
sweeping through the ruins of us, rooted in lust
grew into something other than i truly deserved
sneaking home perfume on my shirt, fucking absurd
what can i expect i guess i'm broken as ever
talking to myself until theres nobody left

thanks