Jack Daniels and laced tequilas

 

I'm not from the hood but does that really matter,  pain is the same all over the world
No marshal j Mathers but I can still complete a life sentence
Poetry and this shit I'm attempting as a white boy in the countryside, a ball all curled
Up toes at the end of a journey putting up borders, erecting mind defences and fenced.

Protecting the innocent parts of my brain from wire eating bugs
I've been crazy, I've woke up in strangers trucks on the dock of the bay
Driven an eighteen wheeler so close to the ocean, bearded man laughed and gave me hugs
We were seconds away from crashing and dying but the guardian angel wanted me to stay

That was only one experience in the middle of my fucking disaster of volume
My autobiography, a portrait , a canvas full of coloured mists against the backdrops of a bridge
Incidental music playing against rappers and smoking mothers mad at me, consumed
And that's the key to this, this fucking gibberish, the reasons I did what I did.

Flipped a car on its roof, rolled it a couple of times, cut out by the siren feelers
Those fucking airbags hit you really hard in the chest and head
And the instigator of these crimes are mr Jack Daniels and laced tequilas
Too much medication that I decide my own prescription amounts fed

Too many time I've escaped certain situations, should have been dead many times before
But I must be half fucking cat landing on my feet
Scars are my art on back, chest, and face a badge on the reflection mirror I explore
Every fucking morning before I limp into the shower, before dawn already accepting defeat

Then I'll take my coffee black and sugarless because I don't know sweet
Watch the psychic detectives to find a happy medium
Smoke the daily cigarette, one of fifty, inhale and thrive in the smoky heat
There's an amount of satisfaction that I'm one more step away from the greatest under earth fire stadium

Intertwine. Into wine, inner part of me that knows I'm not in control of the string puppets that visit me at night
Those mother fuckery are in a realm of their own, I've tried to hold council with my subconscience
But they're more experienced than me, they're queens of the fight
They beat me black and blue and knock me further into unconsciousness

Then I awake, in a pool of cold sweat and mop my brow in anticipation of the day ahead
 Carefully explore my fingers on the outside of my duvet covers, crawling feelers
Everything's ok, mr guardian angel I get to live another day they didn't make me dead
Carry on, step forward, write more of this shit, with jack Daniels and laced tequilas.