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Psychotic Good
Strained my body hanging on the phone,
With bloodshot eyes and shots to call;
In this city of granite there’s nothing set in stone,
You’re in trouble, boy, you should’ve stayed home.

I’ve escaped by the bridges I’ve burned,
Only to get into another mess,
Looks like I’ll have to take no rest
Till I get my peace with something I’ve earned.
Searching within myself to make some use,
Soothing my tired soul with heavy metal blues.

In a place where money slips away as you walk,
Where the ugliest jerks have the coolest girls,
Where pompous words cover the cheapest talk
You are being fed with an illusion forced.

I take a deep breath of the city’s air –
The freedom I’ve been promised smells like it’s rotten,
In a fight against the world it’s not like I have nothing,
But nobody said that others gonna play fair.
So I’m sailing along the streets, looking for clues,
Singing along… to my heavy metal blues.

@темы: poetry detected