There's something sponatuneous,

About the memories that send me into a paralyzing shockwave,

Of exhilaration,

Vexed by the complexity of the bouyant hours

And the wretched downcast shadows of the hours we desperately waited,

And waited til' we fell away

From our hunky-dory dissimulations

We could well comprehend the habit we've begun

It sat and stirred

Cooked until it boiled over

We were hotter than a kitchen stove

Lost oven mitts and burns at the third degree,

I roamed free

No one sheltered me from this occasional downpour of acid rain tearing through my skin,

Led it to the waste of this earth to decompose

Left to become extinct

A life of aperication and aduleteration

If they ask me why I dont have a heart to give

It faded in a hybrid of willy nilly junked up sprees,

Not on any pill you ever heard of or ever even seen

But the twenty four carat golden skies

At the cusp of the day,

Sun down and I'm ready for the day now

Rush hour,   Everything   comes   alive

I like to imagine I'm the clouds in the sky

And the skies blues are the filters in my eyes

For this afternoon junkie, It's no suprise

I like the feeling of grass between my toes,

I can feel my blood pumping and my heartbeat has a purpose for the only time,

The only hours

I feel the rush couring through my blooded veins

Through my hallow soul,

Never think about where I dare to go.

There's something about the leaves on the trees,

The way they oscillate,

There's something about the grass,

It appears a little greener.

And my heart sinks a little deeper

But I can see in panoramic view,

It's a big world as I stare down at it's pulcritude,

It's oranges,

The yellows

And blues

Until the evening hits and all I see is blue,

Blue tomorrow,

Blue house....

Dark blue house

My eight o' clock shedule tends to commence at two,

I'm not an early bird cause I never catch the worm,

It swallows me whole

It takes control

And to my own demise,

With this afternoon junkie, It's no suprise.