(no subject)
http://www.purevolume.com/nickgauthier
paperboy calls it quits
a struggle;
an attempt to make, to create a brand new pair
of words to dangle from,
to strangle your supply of forcefed air
you breathe
you're underneath
a sheet of time;
pressure you fake and shut away.
you turn around the face you wreck
with the perfection that you draw
on your curtains
but you hide from the canvas
and the ink you use is a part of you
but the pen's just a trophy
your heart's set on money
and your money's where my mouth is
but your mouth hasn't a thing to say
about where or who you've been.