Lull

I spent all night re-drafting thoughts I crafted outta love
And hate and spite and selfishness, of all my darkest fetishes
Of all my least abhorrent boring observations
Constellations in the sky at night

Made out of fleeting words and notes
That are ten million miles away
Dying as we watch them glow
Dying, as we watch we know
There is little we can do
But sit and watch them turn the screw
And hope some of our lives are true

All my moods are bottled
And all my dreams are down
Lazing, living
Lying in this lull

I've spent all morning falling deeper, any sleep deprived
Of any urge to leave the bed on which I rest my weary head
So tired with no reason, so listless and so lost
The cost of an unhealthy diet and a lack of exercise

And when I rise, I rise merely temporarilly
To smoke and watch some video, which tells me something I already know
And I get to feel right, a feeling I feel nearly constantly
Seriously, honestly, it's the comfort of my laze

But

All my moods are bottled
And all my dreams are down
Lazing, living, lying in this lull

All my considerations are trivial at best
I guess everything's already been said

Here lies the writer with no epitaph or gravestone
Just a wooden fuckin' coffin and a note
There's somethin' sketched on a worn-out piece of paper
Shoved into this stylish sheep-skin coat

I'll read it timidly, I'll ask it, swiffing poignant) All my moods are bottled
I cheer the buildings sideways, to be beautiful and great (and all my dreams are down)
(Lazing, laving, lying in this lull) But nothing struck me, other than disappointment)
I truly hope that death is worth the wait