poetic belligerence

ain’t it funny how time no longer exists
to the man who spends his whole time waiting
ain’t it swell how even Hell is just waiting for Heaven to fall
into a different kind of favor
it’s breaking bottles on the freeway just to feel awake
and scratchin sores, feelin bored, just waitin

it’s boosting cars at the bars
cause you don’t remember where you parked
after all it’s just the law and rules are made for breaking through
all the games, though they change, she’s still looking right at you
yeah, she still looks right at you

cause
not even god can speed up what can’t be slowed down
not even odd that all we do is talk until the talkin’s all over
if we’re alive it’s only skin off our backs
and the mess of our tracks, baby we just couldn’t stay sober too long

Some people say that the problems you have are the problems you seek. Others will claim the world simply drops them in your lap to see what you make of them. As far as I can tell I’ve never searched for complication and the world has no intentions of testing you. Or any other intentions for that matter. Problems are just like people; they’re innumerable, loud-mouthed little things that can’t be avoided no matter how many fortifications you build or tunnels you dig. They’re not always right, but they usually are and almost always for the wrong reasons. Seems more and more it’s the pursuit of a solution that brings the most issues forward. A spiral of blasphemous self-destruction we pretend not to see, imagine not to feel in the shaking of our hands. And what happens when we finally acknowledge this monstrosity? I can’t speak for all of you, but I know I look at the blood that’s been spilled and accept a fate I neither chose nor choose to see as the minor obstacle it truly is. Too big, too mean, and much too strong for me to overcome. An excuse not to fight, because I’ve already wasted all my energy on avoiding pain that all there’s left for me is the torture of time left standing. This part is worse still, because now I know there is help, salvation, but why try to swim when you’ve become the wretch you once tried to drown?