Click you heels three times, and say I wanna go home.
I wanna go home.
I wanna go home.
I wanna go back to when I was 5 years old and start my life all over again. Except for when I run away this time, I don’t ever come back.
I’m still not able to sleep yet, 37 hours and counting, I laid down for a couple of minutes, but I felt like I had that restless leg syndrome, so I’m back up walking around looking like some sad discarded old dog. I want to go into my garage and smoke until I puke (if that’s possible), but when the nice officers came to arrest me, I got rid of the only 3 joints I had left. I could easily go get more, but I better chill for now, I’m not sure the boys in blue are done with getting their jollies.
Stress is eating me up right now. I had to dig out my last couple of Loritabs that I had from when I first injured my knee, and took one about an hour ago, but it has yet to do anything. I twisted my knee just bad enough yesterday, that it is giving me a lot of pain when I try to walk. So, between the stress and the pain, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to use something. OK, YES I’M A FUCKING ADDICT!!
Shadows are dancing,
but there is no light to make a shadow.
Consumed by dreadful thoughts,
I want to drift away to another place.
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