i wish you had known me when
i was just a chickadee in
the henhouse before
the greyhounds and sleepless nights
before the tour buses and shots
and failed dreams and doomed
what are you drinkin’?
will you tell me the answers if
i get you a drop of your poison?
sleeping in the same arms
no matter what the scenery
they start to look the same
i get more and more obscure
when i think it’s been read
that someone will discover
the beautiful truth
gypsy rose and penny lane
psycho bastards buzz
leather snakeskin and
gross gibberish known
to those who have been there too
always the one that got away
so many tattoos gin or rum?
gin rummy babe
why don’t they get it?
i want the myth not the reality
the glam not the growth
funny i met you before
and neither of us recalled


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