Hangin' Out
The Bricks, construct, the place in which I self destruct
my eyes, they see, the zombies limp abreast to me
structures ascend, channeling wind
we beg for change in the valley within
waste away
hanging out
coffee acid cigarettes and matches
stairway, cafe, were adrift for another day
how far we surpass the nameless mass
in endeavors so meaningless I look for some kind of meaning
all my actions seem so self-defeating
two friends, some pens, sixty five cents
real life brings it to an end
how far we surpass the mass, in endeavors so meaningless.
thanks to matthew joseph roche