Manufactured happiness, the way of the world right this minute
Sure isn’t everybody manufacturing everything
Vigorous exercise, tobacco, drugs and alcohol…
‘Til everything does indeed mean everything
The list will continue to go on and on
Priorities all over the place – askew, derivatively misshapen
And all for what? A flip book filled with snapshots – one which appears like we had so much uninterrupted fun where we could barely breathe
What’s both happy and sad utterly fixated upon the whole threading the line bit
Oh so carefully
There’s your irony right there when you need it
An inexplicable need for that fix
He/She seems to be long left behind
The med. student with 12-years coaxed irrationally beneath, between, a study-belt and an ego
More than enough to send one such brain into cuckoo land
Then there will always be that God awful line again – of absolute insanity blurred for all intents and purposes
Sending you blind – marched to the very end, too many battles to count
When will we ever grow up and learn!? Or even learn to grow up, goddamnit!!
Whichever comes first – the chicken or the goddamn egg
So long as we manage to fill that insatiable thirst one way or other
I turn to the table; lips down and out, an umpteenth beer getting smothered by my rat trap pout
All of this utter false nonchalance