I think I’m dead

This curry breeze, is melting leaves of trees
A nuclear winter descends, and freezes all my pies
The fridge is welded up, I’m drinking anti freeze
I hold the knife but I can’t find a pulse
Who gives a fuck? I’ll be dead by 40 any way

I live in a world poisoned by shit TV
No will to breath, no reason to speak
So I drive around in a pimped out jeep
Screaming I’m dead, I’m dead

I accept my fate, I’ll live here ‘till I die
I’ve been here 30 years, but I can’t tell you why
Nothing ever improves, and every days the same
I hold the soup can, but can’t be fucked to cook
So I get dressed and, get my self a take away

I live in a world poisoned by shit TV
No will to breath, no reason to speak
So I drive around in a pimped out jeep
Screaming I’m dead, I’m dead

My sky box is on, scrawny bastards tell me lies
With bo-tox smiles, and dead zombie eyes
So hear we go again defrosting frozen pies
I vegetate and sink in to my mind
And ride high on my brain waves.

I’m lost in my flat with no GPS
All bones creek my life’s a mess
And I just crashed my pimped out jeep
I think I’m dead, Yes I’m dead

©Tuesday, 16 November 2010 Alex Kyriacou