gray sheets, bright lights, crooked teeth, and the nightlife

it's afternoon, i'm feeling sick

it's afternoon, i'm feeling sick
i'm spewing stupid rhetoric
i'm starting shit on post aesthetics
like a fucking lunatic

i'm home alone,
i'm making jokes,
i'm drowning in my iPhone
And my ears have sprouted headphones
So I'll watch my weary tone

i know i'm being angsty
insert joke here about banksy
-then the MC said well thanks she's leaving soon.

she'll stop trying to rhyme before high noon
tomorrow,
retire to her room
and sit around
and count the hours down
Till June

July and August end
In this state I've got like four friends left
not like there were much to start with
Now we're on big and better things

She'll stop trying to sing before it rings tomorrow
My alarm is lingering
And I live in a shell of things tonight

Late evening and then the night
I'm lurking and I feel alright
1000 calories to spite
The days I used to diet hard and die
A bit but not too much
But writing everything down sucks
And timing every syllable is dumb
I ate a thousand calories

She'll stop trying to eat before he cheats tomorrow
Carve my name into his leather seat

Said the MC:
she'll stop trying to rhyme before high noon
tomorrow,
retire to her room
and sit around
and count the hours down
Till June.

july and august and september and october and november and december and january

february march and april and don't forget may too.

i'll sit around and count the hours down til june