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Flying High.
October 18, 2009
I'm walking on that no where road
to that no where land
where no one will see me again.
Angel dust is circling me as I fly, fly, fly
way up to the sky, the moon, and the stars
until I can't see anything.
Not even Mother Earth,
and I come crashing.
Help.
Help!
Can't you see that I'm drowning in all these bottles of vodka?
I'm gasping for air, but nothing is coming,
except
suffocation.
So I fly, fly, fly
up to the sky, the moon, the stars.
Hoping the angel dust won't run out so I can keep floating.
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