Drunk On a Tuesday night.
Nothing going right,
Still lost in battle,
And every other fight.
Was Years ago and new foes,
Old news, old shoes,
Just to wake like a rabbit
In your headlights.
And everyday has Monday blues.
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The dehydrated working class poet. Not afraid to admit I'm wrong. Just hard being wrong for so long.
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About Me
- Crappo the Clown
- East Belfast, United Kingdom
- I like dancein on tables and gettin drunk, drunk enought to fall and stumble, to know im lost and feel its ok to mumble. time takes to long so im tryin to express how i feel. but the question is always there is any of this real?
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