The smoke in my shoes makes me confused.
And the message i receive keeps you amused.
And then i’m up by three yeah pissed by four.
All i ever wanted was too give and take more.
On dockers day salvage the town.
When the streets are dead i’ll wear the crown.
And tax the pavement all content.
Picking up cigarettes from the cement.
Annual leave and autumn fall.
Im sick and homeless for the long haul.
Advertising sorrows at the bottom of the bottle.
In the passenger seat got no control over the throttle.
The car crash that we impend.
Will be the day that we see the end.
Not after the poor health i yield.
When i’m sitting in a stooper in the same old field.
As if i’m an alcoholic
I feel like a Schizophrenic
You never would believe what rattles around inside my head
Bite marks upon my arm the scars of war i wear are ours.
Searching for a dive on a rainy day.
Because the shop and a forty ounce isn't the way.
I’ll be half way there and still can see.
The way back to my house seems to be.
Paved with all of your good intentions.
Try and apprehend my poor pretension.
The day i wash the streets of scum.
Is the hour and moment where the battles won.
Because its easier said than done.
Saving Smeaton cant be fun.
You don't know it you don't need me.
Two people caught in the act and hear me.
Sitting on the steps of Stoggy i’ll be.
Waiting for some closure on another story.