betrayal
in my years, never have i felt
so loaded with despair.
never have i seen such hate
build up inside these hands.
betrayal, desire, disaster, denial,
what good is burning at both ends going to do
it all adds up, it all adds up and i’m telling you
in my days how long i’ve been
turning round in my premature grave
my old hands they’re burned and chafed
but i don’t have the time to waste for
you’ve stolen everything i had to give and
you’ve taken everything i had to live and
you’ve been the stake through the heart
that puts me down
before sunrise, not much longer
til we lapse into the day,
sitting outside smoking weed we
muse on what it is to be alive,
and you say ‘what good is living
without a little deceit’
‘what good is living without the
thrill of the hunt’ you vapid cunt
there’s not a reason for lying
never let alone
