Wastings

The time I've spent, doing useless things.
It's pretty much frivolous, like a broken hinge.

Lying in bed, eyes focused on the wall,
Not living, just existing, my Karma's settled the score.

I roll another cigarette, and take another puff, sick of all this s**t I take! I tell myself enough!

I go and grab another beer, or maybe drink some wine,
I know my life's become austere, I have no place to hide

My only pleasure seems to be, or so it seems to me, the ingestion of poison, to some excess degree.

I tell myself this life we live, it will soon come true, but truth no doubt is I have to build a bridge, to start my life anew.