Surviving The Purge

Each of us live now in different countries Brought together by words to weave then leave. Where I live I can cruise the street's, looking for prostitute's Without dicking one down. If I did I am sure some disease I would catch Being disease free and free I am. Other's elsewhere say that they don't but do. I without whiskey can't drag my eyes away from The corner of your mouth. The cracks become worse when you smile. Magnolias bloom in the south and their scent Often hides how they smell. Crack is the tool of distraction and in common These issues we have. Through my open bedroom window I hear the hustle and bustle of lies. Droopy eye's open wide in surprise of how good the heroin is. Tonight someone will kill their wife. Here there are no pink elephant's just drunken lust that subsides with the dawn And those whom have survived the purge again get ready for work.