Today might be the day I'm giving up
because actions are louder than words
and words remain harder to find.
I try to keep my head from thinking.
Even though I wrote this play,
I forgot to write a part for myself.
It doesn't bother me that much because
I know I'd end up drinking next to the stage.
They all keep acting as I keep sinking.
I can't recall when it was,
I choose to live life this way
but I can say that I don't regret that day.
Even though inspiration gets harder to find,
there must be something special about being fucked up all the time.
To be honest, this one isn't special.
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