Spider Veins On Once Perfect Legs Pt. 2

Reach on down now sweetheart
Southern more like microphones
Pick up every breath
Every sigh
Every lovers moan and writhe
It's so exhausting
Every thing is such a drag
We wait for hours and still
Still laying down watching TV

Those spider veins on once perfect legs
Take a look at the mirror and pat yourself on the back
Cause you didn't let some sour prick
Bring you down
Enjoying being alive seperatly
Nothing wrong with getting along
In two different places
Without words

We all get older
And I still hate myself
Yet far less far less than before
And I hate you still
Yet far less vehemently
Than I did before

Why not just let it die?
Hows that for closure?

More Men Remembering the Girls Who Made Them Cry

It is so silly to think that boys are allowed to cry
I mean really, why do my salty tears matter to you?
You cry every time you get drunk and call me up
Wasted and upset about everything, whatever, fuck you
Why didn't you come over then?
I'd love to just have you laying around waiting for me to fuck you
I'd love to pretend like people are tailor making love songs for us

Salty and saturnine faces squinting in the Summer sun
Long pants and hoodies in July
I used to love the punk rock scene
But now I'm totally over it
She doesn't answer oh well
It's  good reason to drink yourself to death
And the artists' true dilemma is always rehab and sobriety
How am I supposed to not give a fuck if I'm always sober?

Do you ever watch drunks with such sullen envy?
Do you ever watch television and reel in nostalgia?
Like if you agree, I'm tired of people asking for my opinion
I'm tired of watching my fellow man seek out validation
It's not funny, it's not even sane, it's just kind of silly
Bedhead all night, drinking and thinking
About all this: stupid shit

I can't sleep when I'm halfway to a black out
I just stumble around shift restlessly in a filthy bed
No sheets and no cigarettes, I'm fucked
Nothing to watch or consume
Just some shitty music and muttering
Eyes shift and dilate and sobriety seems like death threats
Muttered lazily by some strapped overly muscled
Greek god looking motherfucker probably an actor
Or a prostitute

Probably an actor or a prostitute
With frosted hair and perfect eyebrows/complexion
Standing around with a drink in his hand
Talking to girls and eyeing all the boys
I hate the night life
I hate sharing my misery with you all
It's something precious to me so I'm done with the hand-outs
A lot of people are going to the city
To get drunk enough to ruin any possibility of getting laid
At least this time around it's my fuck up not yours

I'm just saying I've been talking to men who can only remember
All those poisonous girls who made them cry
I said "sorry I'm just depressed"
It's the best excuse I ever thought up, I don't want to get out of bed
And I said her name while I sang a song of such jilted
Acheing
Shitty
Hearts

I've been reminiscing with my shit head friend
I guess I really was that high
I kinda forgot man, that's pretty funny
And you laugh because it's pretty easy
To just ignore the awful truth
That I wasn't then what I am now
And I'll never be who I want to fucking be
It's frustration and masturbation that go hand in hand it seems
I just tug and tug and fantisize

...and nothing fucking comes out.

Spider Veins on Once Perfect Legs

I once held her mirror up so perfectly
Seamstress, seamstress
Sow me into your pockets my fingers
My love handles so perfectly sown
Into the most handsome shirt ever

And I saw an image pop up on  my television
Jump up on her tippy toes
Tippy toes
And plant such love sick kisses
On departing lovers

Sometimes it seems like I'm always
Always rubbing that ointment
Over spider veins on once perfect legs
She used to go swimming
She used to have her nips
Just popping right up above her sports bra

Sexy can I?
Oh give it a fucking rest
She hates it when she gets dope sick
He hates it when she's such a bitch
Sometimes lover
My hand gets so tired
From holding up that perfect frame
To your pretty portrait
Prostrate cancer
Cihrossis of the liver
Drake songs with satanic overtones

I spend all of the Spring
Being moody and talking shit
Well darling
You could call me back
So I'll finally have the chance
To say
Fuck off but it comes off of my lips as
I love you

Oh shove off...