Half A Day A Week
I have found a lack of sympathy
For my chemically dependant brothers and sisters.
It disturbs me my eye rolling attitudes,
I search through my studies of gods,
I search for the compassion within me.
And I only have it half a day a week.
I try and I try and I try and I try,
Having myself cross the fucking death junk line,
The forcid cock the back hand of love,
I know, I know, I know I, know,
If I can get my shit clean after all the shit I seen,
If I can still fall in love,
And laugh my head off at my life,
And my hard hard lessons.
Then why don't you you rich 35 yr. old junkie fuck,
I want compassion for you, but my friend I have none!
You bear your victimization like a cross, a crutch.
Your lazy, it's easier than to cop out than to rise above,
Believe me, believe you me,
I can't believe you but just to be nice…
Right now is that half a day a week,
That I'll make a search for compassion.
For you, poor you, you fucking white millionaire!
My eyes are aching from roll.