Ain’t it shit though,
when you’re chewin’ thunderstorms like bubble-gum,
lightnin’ crackin’ through your teeth,
like you crack ice-cubes,
trying to sharpen yourself,
glean a-bit of the just-a-bit betters.
Ain’t it, ain’t it though–
Just a bit shit?
Ain’t like you asked for this,
like you wanted it.
Why the fuck, why the hell,
why in the god-damn-fucking-hell,
do you have to deal with this?
I ain’t seen tears like raindrops,
but that don’t mean they don’t exist,
and when you’re chewin’ thunderstorms like bubble-gum,
lightnin’ crackin’ through your teeth,
maybe the difference don’t mean much.
It’s all just keepin’ the black-powder in you from goin’ up.
What it is, is just: it is.
It’s shit,
but that’s it.
Whatever that is.
