justwrite 19 january

these are fake words you heard it here first and you fear the worst but the better is true the batter is through the roof 'cause the butter's uncouth and the pronunciation station is tuned in to static there's nothing so dramatic as lack of sleep creeping up between your eyes and your lids taking bids for the first excuse to topple over and it's a cheap shot but it's all we got left but what's next should be sweeter that pillow to meet your face by which i mean mine and it's now about time i can hardly impress upon you fully enough and if there were a bluff you could call it because now i can't stall it i'm done done done