04.14.95
In a bar
Next too
The place
Where my friend dances for men,
you say she sells  herself
nicotine  stained lungs I speak to you in tongues
And you say my life is a mix of Picasso, Kerouac
Lines, gin and women
I am too high to notice to gone to care
You say my
Madness comes from sadness
Then you
Quit saying anything
Still I miss you
Sometimes