the world just may have been ours
for that moment, but we had to give it up
and it hurts to admit that i screwed up
but i did, letting the world go

spin around on the little ground
that can still be called our home
dead end friends with mouths full of foam
pave the back-way to the lake of dreams
where life is something that always seems
just out of reach of common man
veins full of liquor, stomach full of ham
digesting to the one-two of their out-of-tune jam
waking the neighbors, just as fallen trees
scream for attention "somebody help me please"

dip my head in the water
is this a fountain or a lake?
what other purpose can i fake
before the monster comes out for its early morning snack