Desperate little debutant
Dressed in his Sundays best
Hoping To impress
Gotta get off his chest

Oh no what a mess
Another bottle down
Liver shot to death
Yellow sight like his spine
Fear grips in his neck.

What would the sane man say
If the insane was publicized in his domain?
What would the recluse say
When ***** deeds are shown any way?

Run further away
But the truth catches up,
And the noose tightens like knots in your throat
Stalker thought he was predator
Turn around and pray,
In praise try to find absolution in his name
But grace, alludes the lewd cruelity of this creature

Can’t rely on you to play the game
Or abide by the rules,
Confined in four walls spinning tales
Roll the dice always landing on boardwalk
And I own the blue.

The only sucker in the mirror looking back
Is this kangaroo jack, yeah this is you.
Desperate little debutant ,
The walls closing in a world that will never remember you.

Sitting alone in the darkness
Earphones blasting
Calm and quiet
Feels like a warm home

When I feel myself
Beginning to fret
When fear or depression
String me along
The best way to stop it
To jam up the angst
Is to set loose the hands
To break into song

Take note of my thoughts
Tune into my feelings
Pick out a rhythm
And let it ring true
I try but can't quite
Put my finger on why
But my hands 'round this neck
Sure cast out the blues

A flush creeps to my cheeks, it's been weeks and weeks now. I'm tired of these vicious conceits, continuous defeat as we struggle over who gets to inevitably keep their sanity... her apparently as she slashes my name again and again, once twice thrice called her a friend now. It's all over, supposedly no animosity any more, can't call her a two faced evil... person, thats not civil or nice, it's not me am I right? What's this stinging feeling in my eyes, I can't, I don't know just make this emptiness stop, a pit forming in my stomach and as I rise to the top I could just drop my self into it, all the jokes, all the smiles, all the confidence I never had anyway disappears before it was here even for a day. Big girls don't cry, but then again the songs lie, I sit here surrounded by people who judge the sound of my tears hitting plastic, they think it's fantastic to see a guy like me brought to there level. Big guy, just means another foot to fly as I fall from the sky, after being dropped from so high. Get it together Jack you're not having a panic attack. You're not anxious. You're not depressed. Even if you were no one would be impressed by your pain. Just pick yourself up, roll a ***, pack your bag and run home. And start it all over again.