Poor me, pour me a shot of patron
cigarillo or bordello I just gotta be blown
in a silicone zone where titties are grown
and sessions in the recession where fifties are thrown
rose petals, pedaled within cities of stone
reefer and liquor dance, my chemical romance
my pitiful cold hands
that ache to be warm
like a tux with gold cuffs that waits to be worn
nowadays
loves in the haze of a flashback
those that invest deeply need be gettin they cash back
being in lust with love, feels so dreamy
till its shattered in beautiful pieces scattered beneath me
i still chase it, you gotta believe me
I just dont think its as instant as an instance on tv
we try to close the distance but persistence aint easy
theres a ribbon in the sky if you listen to Stevie
problem is, my arms cant reach that far
or stretch that high, is it best I fly
with the wings of a goose, mixed with red bull
and a night cap slapped on to keep my head cool
awaken in a state of confusion
dressing quickly to get back to my city
fuckin delusion
where I live
where I stay
where I sleep
where I lay
Ive seen all the things that pass me by
oh why cant it be real?
I cling to my dreams as I grab the sky
oh why cant it be real?