Difference Between Me And The Next Man
I didn't "used to live"
__I always lived
Not recently to the fullest
Forgotten how I "used to" see the world around me
Like I "used to" be able to do
Now in the clutch of the future
With no flying car yet made still
I find it hard to differentiate
My past form today
Other than I know things
In a very negative way
Even in the late prime of my life
Only my girlfriend
Is all that I have that is normal to have
My brain sure isn't normal
My way of how I get paid
Sure isn't normal
My body sure is weird looking
Even my friends are odd
To the rest of the world, at least
I function as the most luckiest fucker out there
To a degree
But I ran out of faith in the returning
__of into my usual self again
So in my head
Voices don't remind me
Of what I cannot see anymore
I closed the door to all evil
I've been called a "dirty freak"
And I cannot accept that truth
I've been called a "failure"
And I know that's true too
I've even in response with my acknowledgement of such
Been pronounced "sad"
__just for admitting it
If you assume, I'd rather have been pronounced "dead"
Who needs friends who say that anyway?
No wreckage of mine
Is going to stain my life though
I won't let any
I know how to let go of things
Even if it's past thee amount of time
That they all give me to let go
__before they let go of me
My "fuck-friends" attitude still stands
And I have ev'ry reason to uphold
That kind of commitment
My thoughts still change
Like the channels on a Tv.
When I happen to know where the remote is
Other times, when not
__I can stay stuck on a detail
One tiny little unnoticeable detail
That any other man would simply over look
But I'm just tryin' to fill the pages
I get no mercy out of being lazy
So what it's "crazy"?
D. L. Cannon