six months of separation
and you never laugh when i call anymore
the sound of your voice echoes in my head
like i am dead but not in heaven

all the fancy places we used to go
how far away, like a dream i used to know
and so you wonder why i cry?

six hours driving home
and there's no warm hand there to meet me
is the only sound that greets me

staring out the window on the ride home
faces stare at me as if they know i am alone
and so you wonder, why i cry?

six years in phoenix baby
and im back on the block, where i say im living
people i know by name, don't know me
i never met them to begin with

opening the door down on president
counting the letters that i wrote but never sent
and so you wonder why i cry?

i guess ill fucking update this bullshit... its gay... i have tomorrow off so im gonna hang out with some of my friends... that good enough for all of you fucks... hahaha... you cum guzzlin' hoes

I Wish I Could Die,
I Wish I Could Drown In Blood

I spent all my money in a mexican whorehouse,
across the street from a catholic church,
and then i wiped off my revolver,
and i buttoned up my burgundy shirt,
i shot the morning in the back,
with my red wings on,
i told the sun he'd better go back down,
and if i can find a book of matches,
i'm goin' to burn this hotel down.

you got to tell me brave captain,
why are the wicked so strong,
how do the angels get to sleep,
when the devil leaves the porchlight on.

well i dropped thirty grand on the nugget slots,
i had to sell my ass on fremont street,
and the drummer said there's sanctuary,
over at the bagdad room,
and now it's one for the money, two for the show,
three to get ready, and go man go,
i said tell me mr. siegel,
how do i get out of here.

well willard's knocked out on a bottle of heat,
drivin' dangerous curves across the dirty sheets,
he said man you ought to see her,
when her parents are gone,
man you ought to hear her when the siren's on.
you got to tell me brave captain,
why are the wicked so strong,
how do the angels get to sleep,
when the devil leaves the porchlight on.

don't you know that ain't no broken bottle,
that i picked up in my headlights,
on the other side of the nevada line,
where they live hard die young,
nd have a good lookin' corpse every time,
well the pit-boss said i should keep movin',
this is where you go when you die,
and so i shot a black beauty,
and i kissed her right between the eyes.

well willard's knocked out on a bottle of heat,
drivin' dangerous curves across the dirty sheets,
he said man you ought to see her,
when her parents are gone,
man you ought to hear her when the siren's on.

you got to tell me brave captain,
why are the wicked so strong,
how do the angels get to sleep,
when the devil leaves the porchlight on.

LIFE?S THE IMAGE OF A TIGHTENING SCREW.
IT KEEPS ON TURNING TILL IT BREAKS YOU.

CHEW ON THAT AND SWALLOW.