I spend all of my time these days

Skating on such thin ice

Or dancing with my demons.

You pick, you choose

Anyway you like it, it's not nice.

I always seem to lose.

What more is left to write

What more is left to say?

I know that if I had my choice

I would end it all, anyway.

I don't drink, smoke or curse,

What is left to me to do?

Maybe I should go find my God.

07/13/2008

Posted on 07/13/2008
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