Keep It Simple

Sometimes miss those early days
All I had to do was cling to that seat
Let the wall hold me up
Each minute was an hour and each hour a day

All that mattered was getting through the moment
The future didn't exist and the past didn't matter
Just live in the day it was that simple
As long as I was strong, I'd be around

The feeling that came at the end of the day
Knowing I'd gotten through another one
Each day the scars healing a little more
Each day my body and heart a little less sore

Now those days are long gone
Replaced by the worries that I used to spend all my time escaping from
They're back again. Less scary and less menacing
But nonetheless still lurking in my head

Five years down the road from those cold seats in that little room
Those dark nights and lost souls
Clinging together to create hope
It was so simple then

When

When?

When does it stop hurting?
When can I stop looking away?
When can I see you and not feel ripped apart?
When can I see you and not have it break my heart?

From across the room I see you.
I get that cold chill in my chest.
From across the room I hear you.
And and I lose my breath.

When?

It sucks.

Reality Check

Happy Thanksgiving.

For all the angst, rants, blood, pain and loss that I spill here, the truth of the matter is I have nothing to bitch about. I have a place to be today and family to see today and friends to call today and a bed to sleep in today.

Do I really need anything else? I have people who love me and that I love. I have a job that allows me to express myself and to use my mind. I am one of the fortunate ones. Sure, I've had plenty of downs, but I see a lot more people with a lot more happiness with a hell of a lot less than I have and I can learn from them.

I got up today and went to a meeting. It's the same meeting I've been to for six years in a row now down in Dupont Circle. I see a lot of the same faces and it gives me strength. I have many regrets in life -- who doesn't -- but the one thing I don't regret is a decision I made over five years ago to walk away from my self-destructive ways.

I am still writing for fun, just not here lately. At some point, I will put some of the story I'm working on up here. Now that I'm back to writing full time, it is tough for me to find the time to do this too.

But I do need to find the time because we only have so much time anyway.

I'm going to spare you the usual bleakness that fills my screens today. It is a good day and I have no complaints.

Peace out!

Status update

I know I don't write here enough. I spend my day writing so by the time I get home and actually have some time to devote to myself and the writing I want to do, I'm too spent to put a few thoughts together.

Of course, this is in part because I returned to my old career and while it was a good move, with it comes a loss of time and an expenditure of energy that drains me.

I have been doing some writing on the side. Another story. Not sure if it will see the light of day here, but hopefully it will see the light of day.

My life is good. My dad died and that hasn't been easy. But it's not easy for anyone who has lost a parent. I'm no different. I'm just glad, as I said earlier, that I lost a lot of the anger I had carried with me for so many years. I'd be a mess right now if I hadn't.

I am seeing someone. And she is wonderful and sweet and caring and takes care of me. Hopefully I won't fuck it up.

I still have lots of angst and darkness and blood that needs to flow here. I'll get there. I'm not too old ... yet.

Atonement

Too many sins keeping me
Too many sins to set me free
Let go the ones that cut the deepest
Let the blood flow so I can breathe
Wash it away

Gonna walk to the edge of the water
Kneel down on the ground
Ask you to take it all away
Beg you to let me stay

Too many sins chasing you away
Too many sins getting in my way
Let go the ones that scream the loudest
Let the blood flow so I can pray
Wash it away

Gonna watch the sun drop over those hills
Wait through the night until I hear them crows
Ask you to take it all away
Beg you to let me stay

Too many sins keeping me down
Too many sins for you to be around
Let go the ones that ache the most
Let go the ones that keep me lost
Wash it away

Gonna sit besides those rail road tracks
Wait for that freighter and never come back
Ask you to take me away
Beg you to hear me pray

Wash it away

I have not forgotten

Really, I haven't.
I've just been caught up in crap to sit down and write like I should. I have been working on a story, but I'm doing it in longhand, not on the computer so no previews for now.

On the family front, death brings out the best and worst in people. I had a huge blow up with one of my brothers that looked like it might potentially end our relationship. I won't go into the what or why except to say that while I may have lobbed a rock and he returned fire with nuclear weapons.

Fortunately, once my father's will came out, he find a new home for his anger. We're fine now and he's furious with my father. I'm not sure why. My dad's will was no secret. We don't get anything. The grandkids also don't get anything. That would be easier to swallow if he hadn't found money for his sister he never spoke to (who is also on death's door) and his niece (although she deserves whatever she can get).

Here's the rub. My dad is leaving everything to his second wife. That's fine. But what he didn't do was set up his will in a way that so when she passed, properties could be passed on to his kids or grandkids. He also didn't set up the possibility of trusts for grandkids should his wife sell some of his properties.

Now I don't have kids (yet) so no biggie for me. But my brothers are a little irked since after my dad's second wife goes, everything goes to her nieces and nephews. It's a little screwed up but what can you do?

Just one thing to keep in mind when you are doing your wills. If both my dad and his wife had passed together in an accident but she outlived him by two minutes, everything would have gone to her nieces and nephews. Now that's a little screwed up. So all you folks out there with multiple families, etc., be very clear in your wills.

OK, going to eat now but I will be back with more soon. Really, I promise.

Sunday night

Supposed to be writing.
Instad I'm sitting here in this coffee shop in Larchmont Village.
I should be working on my story, but instead i'm stuck in a battle that will have no winners.
Isn't life fun?

There's nothing like death

To bring the best and worst out of people.

And that's all I'll say about that!

One Long Week

There's no right way to deliver the news that your father has died. My mom did it bluntly last Saturday morning. Have to admit to being stunned. Yes he was 79, but his health was not in decline. Slowing down for sure, but he looked like he was good for five more years.

Anyone who has been reading me knows I didn't have the most ideal relationship with my father. To be blunt, for the first 16 years of my life he wasn't much of a father. By the time he became a good father, I wasn't much of a son.

The good thing is that over the last few years I made peace with him as best as I good. My chest still tightened every time I heard his voice and I never completely felt relaxed in his presence. At the same time I lost the rage I carried for things that happened so long ago.

Part of that was getting sober. If this was five years ago and my father was gone, I'd be sitting in the Dublin House right now swigging beers and cursing him for leaving before I got a chance to tell him what I thought. I'd have been left with nothing but anger and resentments and no where to point the blame.

Fortunately, I don't feel that now. I was able to say what I needed to say and I did it as a sober man, not a bitter drunk. More time would've been nice and maybe even got us closer to some place where my chest would never feel the need to tighten in reaction to his presence.

But that wasn't meant to be and the truth is that the blame for that falls a lot more on me than him. He said as much a few years ago. He recognized his part in our relationship, but added that ultimately it was up to me to move on from it.

He was right, of course. I did a little, but never far enough. The truth is that for most of my life I foolishly thought the anger in me about him and my family was some vital core of my being and without I would cease to exist. Putting down the drink made me see the opposite was true. It was killing me.

I have not yet mourned his death. I think I'm still feeling like I'm in limbo. I will visit his home next week just to feel his presence. There was no funeral. There will be a memorial, but I can't wait for that. I need to walk the rooms he lived in and let it all hit me. It's something I need to do.

The good thing is that no matter how hard all this will get in the months and years ahead, I know in the end I did the best I could to reconcile things with him and myself and I'm at peace with it.

I read all these appreciations of his work and life and I see how much was passed on to me without me even realizing it. I'm just glad I can smile about it now.

Love Rage Pain

There's a hole in me now
All the love, rage and pain
Just torn out of me
Can't barely stand without it

Never did get things straight between us
Probably never could
Still wish for a little more time
Don't we all

Better for you to go down fast
The rest of us just wanted one more moment
Selfish on our part
Now we're the ones alone

Don't really feel anything yet
Want to keep moving but got nowhere to go
Feel like I should be on a plane somewhere
Instead of feeling stuck in this nowhere

If only it'd been different
You made me who I am
Good and bad
Now I'm old and you're gone

Wish I'd been better towards you
After you got better towards me
Wish I could've forgot the past
Take your love no questions asked

Won't feel anything
For the next days and weeks
Then that love rage and pain
Will come crashing down on me

Don't Want to See You in Everything

When you look into my eyes
Do you see the pain?

When you hear my voice
Can you tell it's still cracked?

When you see me walk
Do I still look broken?

When I see you I have to look away
When I see you I have to leave the day
When I see you I have to drop and pray
When I see you I have nothing to say

What bad turn did I go down with you
What maze is this that has no exit
Why do we cling so to the one
That did a dump and run

When I see you I feel so weak
When I see you I forget to speak
When I see you I go meek
When I see you I turn to concrete

When you look into my eyes
Do you see the hurt?

When you hear my voice
Is it beaten down?

When you see me walk
Do you laugh behind me?

Want to see you and feel no pain
Want to see you and think of rain
Want to see you and not see anything
Don't want to see you in everything

Enough Trouble

I know how to take care of myself even when I don't want to. Tonight I was going to go to an industry party. But if I did, it would have likely led me to going without a meeting until Saturday.

For some reason, I knew I would be better served showing up in a church then a party. It's not that I thought after almost five years I'd screw up. It's that I don't want it to become acceptable to go four days without checking in. The most I've gone before is three days and that was when I had pneumonia.

I know I won't forget what I am. I'm not one of those people who will gradually drift away and fall backwards. If I go back there it will be because I made a decision to return to that hell because I could no longer take this one.

So far that's not something in the cards. It's good to know that I still know that.

Someone tonight asked how long I had and when I said almost five years he exclaimed, "five years without one beer." I said I didn't think of it that way but I guess that's true.

It's important not to think of it like that. If you do, trouble starts.

I've had enough trouble. Don't need no more.

Not Taking Care

Turning left on La Brea from Melrose I took a risk. Sped up and made the turn when I should have waited. Notice that I drive faster than I should. Notice that I take bets that I shouldn't.

Am I 45 with a death wish? Sometimes I can envision the crack-up or the person I don't see in the afternoon sun flying into the air on Sixth Street.

Torn sometimes between wanting what I don't have and not wanting what I do. Pretty sure I've got that one backwards, but that's how I've always lived.

Little tired of still feeling pain over something that shouldn't have hurt. For someone who has based their whole life on being rejected, that rejection sure hurt a lot. Wish I knew why.

Sitting here listening to Landslide. Sometimes I wish I'd done more. Sometimes I wish I'd gone deeper. Cut myself harder. Bled a little more.

Don't want to feel this stuff anymore. Spend all day chasing other people's lives and the come home to none of my own.

Got all the wrong priorities. May chase away another one who wants to take care of me so I can find one who doesn't.

That way there will be two people not taking care of me.

Laurel Canyon

There is something about driving up Laurel Canyon that I love. When the traffic is light and the sun is setting there are few things more beautiful than taking those curves and looking up at those hills. It clears my mind.

We Never Cared

We never cared
When you were lost

We never cared
When you didn't come home

We never cared
When you went missing

We never cared
Until its too late

We never looked
When you vanished

We never looked
When you couldn't be found

We never looked
When you missed your birthday

We never looked
When the years rolled by

We never cried
When you didn't come back

We never cried
When they found you in the dirt

We never cried
When your bones were all that was left

We never cried
When they said you never had a chance.

Home

When I see the donut, I know I'm home. I'm safe.

Aight?

Got my words.
Got my blood.
Mixed together in dirt.
Lost in the mud.
Just struggling to keep it real.
Holding up my end of the deal.
Aight?

Soon

Soon
Will take a shot
Send some of the verses out
See if I can get some momentum
Who knows
And if not, I don't expect it anyway
So that' OK
And sometime soon
I'll be back here
With more to hear
And less to fear

Supposed To Feel

Keep looking for a feeling that betrayed me every time
Think that if I don't feel what I felt before then it doesn't matter no more
But every time I've had that feeling it blew up in my face
So why should I waste my time?

Don't know what I'm supposed to feel
Don't know how to tell what's real
Every other time, I've felt weak
Every other time, I couldn't eat

Somehow thought that's how it's supposed to feel
On edge, strung out waiting for the next hit of love
Starting to think that may not be so right
Starting to see it's not all about staying up all night

Can it be real if it's not real crazy?

The Sweet Forever

Just finished "The Sweet Forever," my third George Pelecanos book. He's a D.C. noir writer for those not aware. He's also written for The Wire.

Pelecanos really captures DC in the 1980s. The geography, the scene, the music, the bars, it's all there. In a nutshell, "The Sweet Forever" is about a collision of a record store owner, his employees, corrupt cops, drug dealers and a party girl. The backdrop is the NCAA tournament and Len Bias' final season with Maryland. Bias is there to foreshadow what is coming to DC and the country. Just as Magic Johnson's announcement that he was HIV positive suddenly put a new face on AIDS and made us all panic, Bias' death from a cocaine overdose just two days after the Celtics drafted him had the same effect on many of us folks.

The thing with Pelecanos is he really knows how to capture neighborhoods. When he writes about being in Georgetown or U Street (pre gentrification U Street), I feel like I'm there. I got a little thrill when he set a scene at Alice Deal where I went to middle school.

His books have a fair amount of sex and drugs in them and all I can say is no one can write scenes like that without having dabbled a little in the stuff themselves. Makes me wish I'd been a little more wild in my D.C. days. Stealing super cans was fun, but it' not quite crazy sex with a party girl who likes to put ice cubes in strange places.

He grew up in Maryland and his family owned a diner in DC so he knows his turf. In reality, I spent about seven years in D.C., but they were the most formative years (learned to drive, had my first drunk, lost my virginity, first job etc.) and I still consider it home.

But if I were to try to write a book there, I'd have to do set in the 1980s too. I've been gone from the place for too long to try to capture what it's like now. The only thing is Pelecanos has this covered. He does seem more into basketball than football though so I do have that going for me. I may not know the 1986 NCAA tournament inside and out but I can tell you Jay Schroeder's stats for every game that season.

It's a start.

Blue & Gold

Listening to The Cure's "Close to Me" always takes me back to the Blue & Gold, a little Ukrainian dive bar on East 7th Street near First Avenue.

I spent much of my college life at the Blue & Gold. The East Village in the early 1980s was still a mix of old immigrants, squatters, musicians, artists, addicts and NYU students who dared to venture past Second Avenue. This was before there were Starbucks and Gaps all over the place down there. It was still a neighborhood instead of a mall. Of course, it was that first wave of NYU dorks heading east that led to all that the East Village is now, so blame me and my pals.

Anyway, when we went there on a Friday or Saturday night the bar was usually a mix of old Ukrainians at the bar and students and punks in the booths. I'd call them hipsters but this was before the term was coined. If you had a booth at the B&G, you did not give it up. You were golden.

The walls of the B&G had drawings of old villages in them but you had to look hard to see them. It had a great jukebox, cheap drinks, a disgusting bathroom that I vomited in a lot and a pool table in the middle. There was a bar just like it right next door that we called the parallel universe. Strangely, no matter how crowded the B&G got, no one ever ventured next door to the relatively empty confines of the parallel universe.

There was an old guy at the bar every night at the B&G. He had gray hair and always wore shades and was always smoking. My friends used to joke that he was me at sixty. In all the years of going there, the only time any of us ever heard him say anything was when he once yelled, "up your ass" at no one in particular.

Often we would start at night at the B&G and then drift further down 7th to Vazacs at Avenue B. Some people know it as the horseshoe bar. It is a classic bar which is why many movies ("Godfather II," "Angel Heart" and "The Verdict") were shot there as well as numerous Miller Lite advertisements. From there we'd bob over to 5th Street and Sophies and then work our way back to the B&G to finish the night before staggering back to the dorms.

I remember one afternoon after we were done with Fall semester finals and me and my roommates headed there for a mid-afternoon binge. The place was pretty empty except for the usual assortment of old Ukrainians. We drank a ton of beer and I must have had four shots of Wild Turkey and was smoking filterless Camels. The lady who ran the place called us "crazy cossacks." I had to catch a train to Buffalo the next day to visit my girlfriend's family. It was one of the worst hangovers I ever had.

Obviously I have not been to the Blue & Gold in a long time. Even if i wasn't sober, I'm too old for that place now. Nothing worse than an aging doofus trying to pick up college chicks although if you are good at it then it's probably like shooting fish in a barrel.

I will ask my readers who tipped many back at the B&G with me to throw in their own memories.

Another Date

She lay back hoping it'd be better
He pushed her skirt up and started to grind
He reached under to get at her
Maybe if she just shut her eyes she wouldn't mind

She felt him feeling her with his swell
Wished she cared enough to show him bliss
Like a blind man trying to find the doorbell
He poked at everything and missed

He finally found the mark
She felt something but it was never enough
He acted like he was making art
She just wished he'd get real rough

A few minutes later he was done
And she was still stuck in second gear
Nothing to show for this but his slimy cum
Dripping out of her like slow tears

He took out another hundred
Thanks for making it so great
She put it next to her on the bed
Gotta go, I'm gonna be late

The door slammed and she sighed
Heard him on the stairs and started the wait
Wanted to but had no time to cry
Had to get ready for another date

A year and a few weeks

I realized I kind of let the one year anniversary of my return to LA slip by without some words.

I guess I should say something about it.

No regrets

That's all I got right now.

On the to do list:

Finish that damn story

Write some others

Try to sell them

Rinse, repeat.

Found Me

Left a few clues for you
Probably wasn't thinking at the time
But you took the bait and followed through
And wandered into my world of rhyme

Now I'm not what you might have thought
Or maybe I'm too much of what you fear
So that whole dance was for naught
Because you're running free and clear

Peace and Desperation

Sitting in Starbucks in Beverly Hills wondering why. I'm here in my suit. I look like everyone else. I have a job and a home and people who care about me and all these other things and yet at times I can feel completely empty.

This is not a woe is me post. It's been way too long since I wrote in this thing. I'm so damn busy with work and so damn stupid with my time when I'm not at work that I don't take the lousy 15 minutes a day it would take me to put something here so the record is complete.

I'm killing time before a work dinner. Truth is I'd rather not go to the dinner. I'd rather go to a meeting. I'd rather just go somewhere and not have to be on. I always feel I have to be on. I have to be something or someone. It's exhausting.

Last night I went to see the person I'm dating. She's nice and sweet and all those things. But is it enough? Of course not. Because she can never be enough. The one before or after couldn't either. And that's because I haven't accepted that I'm enough. Until I do that, nothing else matters.

Back in the Day

Listening to this and thinking about all the times I played it while hanging out at the Dublin House on West 79th. I'd be there alone doing my Bukowski thing with an endless stream of beers and shots and the rest. I'd be trying to look like a dark writer hoping some hot chick into desperate guys would take me home.

Yeah, it happened twice maybe. But if I close my eyes I can taste the beer and the Marlboro and the all that other good stuff. No, I don't miss the end result. I don't miss where I ended up. But I'd be lying if I didn't say that I sometimes wish I could go back for a night.

And yeah, I went home with a waitress or two in my day too.

What's playing in my head

Remember this one? Really not a bad song. Kind of led to the poem below.

In the Dark

Got caught on the platform
Thought I could make a break
But they were too quick
And I was too late

Taken to an empty hole
Fought but they wouldn't let go
They took my eyes
And robbed my soul

Left hanging in the dark
Cigarette burns in my arm
Kept asking me over and over
And promised no more harm

Closed them off and went away
Saw things that I'd never seen before
Didn't even feel the cut that drained my life
And I want to come back for more

Cheap Vodka and Bad Wine

I see this as a blues song. Need some harmonica and guitar.

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Got to get me mine

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Just something to help me pass the time

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Helps make me blind

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Oh so much easier to live that lie

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Makes everything feel so fine

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Make it last a little longer with this line

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Makes me forget all the wasted time

Cheap vodka and bad wine
ripped apart my body and mind

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Ate away my prime

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Made you leave all those times

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Took my last dime

Cheap vodka and bad wine
Left me here dying

RIP David Mills

David Mills, a former Washington Post reporter who went on to write for some of TV's greatest dramas including "Homicide," "NYPD Blue" and "The Wire" and was currently working on HBO's "Treme" died.

I did not know him, but knew his work. He also had the blog Undercover Black Man that I link to here. If you had not checked him out before, please do so now.

He was 48. We never know how much time we have so you better make the most of it.

D.C. 2010

In D.C. for Passover. Yes, Rambler's a Yid!

I get here about three times a year and both love how little it has changed in some parts and how much it has in others. Bethesda is almost a miniature Georgetown now. Rockville has its own version. I know. Rambler those are suburbs. You said you were in D.C. Trust me, I'm a D.C. boy with the Wilson diploma to prove it. No MD or VA prep school or DC private school for me.

But I'm staying with my brother in Kensington so what can you do. Anyway, Tour Guide would know best, but I guess the new thing for the suburbs is to create their own little downtowns to become more appealing to those who might be more inclined to stay in the city.

D.C.'s population has actually been growing. The city is a lot nicer than when I was growing up here. Not that it was awful then. It had its scary parts and now there are fewer scary parts. The whole 14th Street corridor is cleaned up. It feels like Brooklyn Heights. Columbia Heights looks like some city from the future!

Because of the strict zoning laws, none of these new developments seem overwhelming or out of place. Unlike New York, with its hideous glass hi-rises everywhere, D.C. architects actually seem to want the new to blend with the old. Radical concept.

For all that is new here, the old DC charms has not been lost. Roaming around Dupont Circle is timeless. Upper Northwest is as picturesque as ever. What's new works and what's old remains.

I'm sure there are others who blog constantly about the downfall of old D.C. and who knows, maybe they have a point. All I know is every time I'm back here I start to think that this is a city I could live in again should I feel the need to pull yet another geographic. I can't say that about New York.

I spent ten years in NYC before moving back to LA and yet I never miss it or think of it as home. I spent four years of my youth in DC and about four more as an adult. Yet this is where I consider myself from. I guess it's because all the pivotal early moments of life happened here. My first kiss was here. First drunk was here. First lay was here. Learned how to drive here. Etc.

When I come here I feel like I'm home. Just like when I'm back in LA I'll feel like I'm home. Don't have that feeling in NYC.

Didn't mean to turn this into yet another why I don't miss NYC rant. I'm just checking in and reporting that D.C. is still a pretty cool city.

I know I keep you amused...

More Rod.

Dreaming of an Alabi

If this doesn't make you smile I don't know what to do with ya! The Faces sloppily (of course) performing one of my favorite Rod songs, the under-appreciated "True Blue."

Wrong To Steal

Stood next to you all night
Not quite sure what I saw back in the day
Why did I think you were right
Must have been really hungry to eat off that plate

Just another vacant stare
Was there ever anything there
Just another vacant stare
Was I just a dare

Tried to see what it was I saw
Wanted to feel what I felt
Came away just feeling raw
Looking for another stiff belt

Just another lap in those empty eyes
Another chance to listen to your lies
Just another lap in those empty eyes
One more time to hear your fake cries

Would like to cut myself open in front of you
Splatter myself all over your dress
Like to see me inside you
Feel myself draining and at rest

Just one more time to make you see real
Another chance to make you feel
Just one more time to make you see real
One last time to show you the deal

Standing Eight

Got in the ring and took a blow.
Tasted blood again, but I won't go.
Still staggering as bell calls for more.
Will I stand or hit the floor?

Not much of an update

But I'm getting lots of spam comments on old posts here. Anyone know what the hell that's about. Otherwise, here is what is new. I'm now dating just one girl instead of two. I still look at too much Internet porn. I'm still wasting way too much time doing dumb stuff when I need to be writing.

Yes, I will revisit she's nothing but trouble. I promise.

OK, going to take a shower now.

Peace!

You never bled

Still got you in my head
Even though to you I'm dead
Feeling you in my bed
But for me you never bled

Wish you'd just go away
But I'm the one who makes you stay
I'm still caught up in your sway
And it's not like it was that great a lay

Were together only a little while
Apparently I wasn't your style
Just another one stuck in your file
And then dropped like I was bile

You see me and feel nothing
I see you and lose everything
You look through me and touch your ring
I look in you and need a drink

Sometime I'll find what's real
Won't fall for one who steals
Who ate me like their last meal
Just let these scars heal

Orgasm

Can't let you take that from me
Won't come for you
As much as I want to
It's the only thing I can keep

Hate myself when its over
Just want to run far away
Got nothing to do with you as a lover
Can't let myself enjoy even a lay

Feel so guilty after, like I stole something
Can give you everything you want
But can't let you make me sing
And till that changes my soul will rot

Won't give you that piece of me
You've got to come take it
Can't let myself really see
So I'll just fake it

It's the only thing I can hold on to
Not like I've got some super staying power
Just trying to be true to me not you
And hopefully last the next hour

Missing DC

Goodnight Salinger

Finding my way out of the light.
Don't like it so bright.
Take me night.
Don't care for sight.
Saw what I needed to see so let me be tonight

Rain

Got caught in the rain chasing your screams
Confused your pain for freedom again so it seems
How many times you gonna die
For that lie?

Keep looking for new holes to hit
More veins to slit
World's eating you alive
You just sit there ready to die

Don't know enough to come out of the rain
No one around anyway to pay
No saviour on these streets tonight
No one to tell you you're just right

Can't help you get out of here
You're stuck and you're end is near
They'll come by for a week or so
And then they'll forget you and your stone

Come out of the rain

Love

I really want to be the guy who's there for you every day
The one that will always find a way
But instead I'm the one who hangs just out of reach
The one who sucks you dry like a leech.

Hope you'll call me later
Maybe come by for dinner
Let me take you in the bedroom
Let me be your sinner

I will always be here for you
Just the guy to come when you a need a screw
Yes, I'm the one you want
When you can't have what you need

So stop pretending you'll get through this rhyme
I've got you hanging on the line
I'm the one dropping the dime
I'm the one taking your time

Not a bad boy, I'm really not
Just not ready to give you a shot
Out in the day where I can't hide
Afraid you'll see what I'm not

Can't show up when you need me
Can't be there when you want me
Just take what I can all the time
And get you thinking you're the one in the lie

Turning 45 later this week
And I'm still the same old creep
Turning 45 later this week
And no, I won't weep

Still out there using and being used
Still out there doing what gets me by
Still out there getting you high
Still out there between your thighs

And you keep coming back
No matter how far you try to run
Keep looking for it somewhere else
you keep going back
When you need to come

No More

Feel you burning inside.
What I'm waiting for?
Hear you talking.
Can't take no more.
See you walking.
I'm looking for the door.
So gone now.