Murder Junkie/CPA

Punched up a letter to the old me that said
Drink more water and get more sleep
You should probably plan ahead
And put some pennies in a bank
This will last longer than you think

I read it once and ripped it into shreds
And screamed some cliched shit like carpe diem
Kerouac was a hack and Kesey was a square
I’ll die before listening

But you don’t ever let me slip or sink
Or get away with bullshit alchemy
I’ve turned a lot of diamond back to coal through the tears

I’ll never trust my own instincts
They’re wrong and you’re right about everything
The Crips and Bloods got day jobs in the boring years

When they handed me the city keys
They said respect this man of noble dignity
He’ll never shit the bed
Or show up late with eyes all red
He’s got cleaner piss that me

In the center of town you’ll see a
25 foot sculpture in honor of me with a plaque
That reads the most pitiful son of a bitch we’ve ever seen

At the ribbon cutting ceremony
I’ll make a solemn vow to the bourgeoisie
I will never be the stone grinding in your gears

I’ll never trust my own instincts
They’re wrong and you’re right about everything
GG Allin does my taxes in the boring years