Lull

I spent all night re-drafting thoughts I crafted outta love

And hate and spite and selfishness, of all my darkest fetishes

Of all my least abhorrent boring observations

Constellations in the sky at night

Made out of fleeting words and notes

That are ten million miles away

Dying as we watch them glow

Dying, as we watch we know

There is little we can do

But sit and watch them turn the screw

And hope some of our lives are true

All my moods are bottled

And all my dreams are down

Lazing, living

Lying in this lull

I've spent all morning falling deeper, any sleep deprived

Of any urge to leave the bed on which I rest my weary head

So tired with no reason, so listless and so lost

The cost of an unhealthy diet and a lack of exercise

And when I rise, I rise merely temporarilly

To smoke and watch some video, which tells me something I already know

And I get to feel right, a feeling I feel nearly constantly

Seriously, honestly, it's the comfort of my laze

But

All my moods are bottled

And all my dreams are down

Lazing, living, lying in this lull

All my considerations are trivial at best

I guess everything's already been said

Here lies the writer with no epitaph or gravestone

Just a wooden fuckin' coffin and a note

There's somethin' sketched on a worn-out piece of paper

Shoved into this stylish sheep-skin coat

I'll read it timidly, I'll ask it, swiffing poignant) All my moods are bottled

I cheer the buildings sideways, to be beautiful and great (and all my dreams are down)

(Lazing, laving, lying in this lull) But nothing struck me, other than disappointment)

I truly hope that death is worth the wait