Shucks Fuckers
I done a lotta blow in my days
Capillaries and veins are strained
Webs woven & words spoken
Time was endless in that haze
But it's a High price for the High life
Sitting in the kitchen cooking up a craze
My Lady - an object of obsession
less seen
and
rarely smelt.
Aw, who am I to kid?
Always smelt it,
always dealt it.
And sometimes
melted.
Rising tendrils
spiraling.
Still rising.
Still spiraling.
Then She is Gone.
Was She ever here?
Do mine eyes deceive?
Fondle the Pusher
for a line
or a string.
Strung up
to dry.
Fondle my memory
for a dream
or a lie.
Will I dream
while I die?
I'll scream
for a dream.
I'll scream,
"Welcome Back...Welcome Back to the Machine!"
