Strikes And Bats

Mundane tunnel activity leaves an empty taste, leads lack of satisfaction over a searching head, boring routine, grass is green but I’m still bored.


Okay, carnality has strobe lights, pretty for a few dances then I’m ready to leave these unfit parties, blah and blah is doing this, can you believe what they’re wearing?


Spin spin, don’t stop.

Lie after lie, it all flops falling flat.

Swinging in this game but I’m tired of it all, throw off my hat.

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