One Of My Holy Places...

Well they crowned me with thorns
On the day I was born
By the light of a cold
Television
And I remember the bars
On his uniform
As he marched from the field
Of my vision

When he didn't come home
It was just us alone
The brat and the widowed
Civilian
And then one April night
After Ma took her life
I fell down the street
To oblivion

And I took what the dumpsters
Were giving
And I did my best
To survive
'Cause I figured that life's
For the living
While you're alive

So bring out the gin
And the small violin
I'm a raging success
As a failure
And it's colder than hell
In this cardboard hotel
Which I share with a chronic
Embezzler

So I beat my retreat
Down Collister street
To one of my holy places
And they tangled my wings
With wire and strings
And I'm spinning in a
Whirlpool of faces

And I'll take what the dumpsters
Are giving
And I'll do my best
To survive
'Cause I still think that life's
For the living
Yes I still think that life's
For the living
And I'll take what the dumpsters
Are giving
And I'll pray every night
To St. Giles
But I still think that life's
For the living

At least for a while

          -"7th Avenue Static"
           Firewater, Psychopharmacology