enough

written at a stressfull time, i guess i was exploring the idea of some kind of oblivion.

Why is it that I lay on the floor and I roll around
why do I feel so comfortable on the ground?

When there's an infinity of things to do
a list so long I am far from the end
and there is always something creeping around the bend.

So why is is that I never feel ashamed
when I achieve nothing and get blamed
for everything being a mess

god blessed my lazy soul
rest my feet on a pile of books and clothes
the fire is going out
and I need to count the deadlined decisions due too soon...

but soon I will have nothing to do

no obligations or desires
only self preserving fires
lay back
relax
let this world collapse

while everyone panics with bricks sweating blood
I see no point in holding walls up
when they're just not as heavy as you think

sit with me
there is room for your feet on my pile of books
watch headless chickens run by
we are just another pair of crooks.