Poor Attempts At Remembering Our Dreams

Let's be honest nobody will appreciate this, ignored and rebuked oh lovely hands so faultless but cracking with arthritic pain it's the noon lite spirited refrain inside of our heads, like the time we just got drunk at your ex-girlfriend's house, not a sound was made as we slept on the floor thinking that maybe it could be this okay all the time without you dire dire people I miss drinking in the suburbs not worrying about having to share my smokes with anyone I don't know... I don't care... It's over give up we'll never even make 40 a year we might as well disappear and I don't give a fuck what they say we will only ever sleep in the houses we wish we owned... I know it's not for me to be pressed down to the grindstone then why the fuck am I still here? You spend Sundays driving through suburbs dreaming of a perfect family to fill it with, sleeping in your father's house what is truly yours is truly his and I can't help but scrape open my eyes after hours of uninspired sleep and feel a complete lack of enthusiasm as they pack our sore bodies into cities to get shuffled around as the developers see fit... I can't help but sorely think I never slept in your father's house... so am I really nothing without you? Oh when will it all end?