Off The Spoon

11pm and he’s calm like the moon
Lost in Revelry, Kings of Leon, his favorite tune
He fades away, leaning on the only couch in the room
He’s feeling like his own father, yeap, too soon

Too early for a pop but he’s so addicted
Too late for a swisher, his lust is gifted
So he straps his arm with a death-wish
Not really, but the dose in the syringe is a death-wish

So as he pushes the needle into his life
His pineapples are sliced, he chronicles his life
He misses his son so he ridicules his wife
But she’s not there, he’s only talking to his vice

He’s zoned off, but he still hears the speakers
The guitar revolves, and his mind shivers

His soul curls as heroin licks on his flesh
His brain slide-shows to when he met Charlize Theron in the flesh

That was a good day, when his days weren’t dark days
Now he’s too gone, way beyond longing for anything but dark days

It’s now 3am, too early for a pop but still he’s addicted
Too late for a drop, his luck is twisted
And his soul stay stuck to the tunes
Dope boy, his heart cries, “please get off the spoon”

Andreá Fellini *2012*Copyright!

8 thoughts on “Off The Spoon

  1. Pingback: Off The Spoon | Andrea' Fellini's …

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