Habit of You

I sit aside my ruptured moon with fork and spoon in hand.
i sit aside an empty seat giving the waiter my demand.
a hot plate of pancakes with syrup on the side.
a hot plate of loathing depressed from the ones who died.

Caught motionlessly driving; exporting drugs to a friend in need
only to find the drugs were for me to once again feel the air to breath.

gasping searching moaning deseprate.
glancing at my streched out hand.
crawling on the floor streching my hand out to block the sun.

but the sun is my god; my savior but he blinds me from the truth
these drugs that help me breath tonight are the things holding me tight.

how did she find me
oh how did she find me
i hid so well as it rained.
the angles scream as billy sings for i too put concrete in my veins.

no ones a fan to the truth of a scary sound
depression to agression slowly turns to a killers rage.
to cut it short i tie this nose in front of millions of people and hang dead on the stage.