thirty six
walking past midnight
with no were to be
until six am
it's dark
and all I have is my regrets
and a buzz that will end in forty five minutes
if I don't find more fuel for it
and like the germans retreating from stalingrad
I've been whipped by my own greed,
naivety and trusted the worst person I could find
and that is all on me
and when I get back to the home front
it lies in ruins
and the locals
don't want to see me
so I'm walking past this neon lit gas station
with forty bucks in my pocket
at two thirty seven in morning
and if not for the boys
I'd be looking
for a place six feet under
no wonder I lost my mind
and why it's took so long to recover