I’m Not At Your Level Of Cool

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I’m not at your level of cool
I don’t wear sepia filtered tank tops
I don’t own $200 neon wayfarers
I still wear normal, rubber flip flops
I’m not as tied to this world
There’s no room for a brand new Audi
I’d rather turn my focus
Write a little to seduce a delicious Hottie
You can continue to delude yourself
Ignore the life you forgot to mention
But I know what you’re missing
A woman worthy of your time & attention

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A Broken Bottle Of Scotch & An Empty Stripper

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A broken bottle of scotch & an empty stripper

Checking my watch for the time to set sail

Three bloody sheets & all the usual drivel

Keeping always one eye on the day’s mail

Unsavory characters gathered around my table

I can’t walk straight, but my heart goes out to thee

Smoke & bar light reveal a familiar feeling

Failure felt all those years trying to break free

Hiding behind myself, not wanting to attract

Fingernail scrapes will lead to further attention

I leave this room in no condition to go

Held hostage by all the words you felt obligated to mention

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