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No Title (Chase Fontenot-Lafayette, LA)

I noticed my chipped tooth when I woke this morning. Shows the sad fucking truth that I haven’t smiled in a fortnight. Porch light left on, collared carelessness left it all desolate Couldn’t process my expression to possess all my recklessness
Whatever, I don’t care Call me a fucking sinner Quick to throw salt bitch Because you were a born winner? I’m still eating tv dinners with my loser friends so try catch up to me fucking bully, part of the party that sucks up on his knees while trees burn, heads turn you always learn in the end its not about your fucking sins its what you do with them
Crass classy cats pitying the glassy pupil pill poppers They are the show stoppers, globetrotters, popular if hot or cold I'm breaking the mold, common stories aren't reported that escort Simple lyricists to spread fear into the inquisitors, insane with no visitors By the time I hit the hill and have to sip my last meal and take baby Advil
Fuck that, I'll climb over the ant hill and order a raw steak with a milkshake to give you fucking headache And to prove your silver spoon That you hold so fucking dear Is only a fast car in your backyard With no way to steer


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