Typing, Hacking, Thinking – Smokin’ Hot

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Typing, hacking, thinking – Smokin’ hot
Typing your best to empty all thought
Pouring your soul into force upon the keys
Your woman walks past with a dress above the knees
Now you can’t think or type or stammer straight
The hell with with deadlines – this one’s gonna be late
You pray to the spirits of procrastination or whatever you think of
Burn this project right now, sacrifice it in the name of love

*previously posted on former blog

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Pouring The Last Drop In The Bottle

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Pouring the last drop in the bottle
Lost in the old rusted radiator’s hum
Not every morning is lonely as this
Wondering when your love is going to come
The cigarette smoke is trying to kill me
No longer going to sit back cold & demure
Nothing left from when we were famous
She’d give anything for life to be as it were

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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