They Say I'm Crazy..

They say I’m crazy cause of my taste for destruction

Yeah, sometimes I get off watching it all crash down around me

And I take note of who steps up to rebuild

And those that turn their backs

I’ve seen plenty fools walk away

And those that stick around are part of a stronger future

Sometimes I get to thinking bout my past

And you can see me strolling down a dark alley

To chill with the shadows

Blowing smoke of a Kush variety

Into the air I watch it all make sense

Don’t bother trying to patch on old wound

It’ll fester and infect you

Better to kiss that pain

Allow it to fuck with you a bit

Then it can fade

Or maybe we just become used to the pain

Either way I’ll do what I can to become a better man

I enjoy the late night walks, maybe I’m inviting disaster

Or maybe it's that one time in the day when everything shuts the fuck up

And I can hear my own thoughts

Girls like my ipod play list

A little taste of each tune before I find the right one

But they all mean something to me in some shape or form

Some I still miss. Those are the ones that got away

Others are cunts. Stuck up bitches that can't let go of the past

I guess denial is a tough thing to handle

I should know.

I keep thinking about us in the water

And how I would've held you tighter if I knew the waves of life would take you away

I hate being a writer and I hate believing in romance

I hate it all but can't help but hold the door for you

And day dream of skipping stones across the water

Laughing it all away

I learned about my dead grandma the other day

It comforts me to know I’m not the only one who loves club sandwiches

I guess I just wish I could have a conversation with her

Maybe help her with the New York Times crossword puzzle

Sometimes I daydream that I’ll be in the New York Times

As a bestseller.

Maybe those words will come and maybe they won't

Something about this path of life...

The right path isn't always clear

But I’ve had a hell of a time stumbling through it.

They say I’m crazy because I talk to myself out loud

I’m told that there's a fine line between creative writing and schizophrenia

I wouldn't say I’m one of those though.

I’m probably just emotional

I get angry sometimes when I know people are fake

And showing me fake love

I hate fake things

Who likes a fake flower?

Fake shit is a waste of my time.

So when I’m throwing swings and causing such a fucking scene

Just know I’m doing my best to keep it real.

They say I’m crazy.

And I’ll agree.

Let’s go hit the town with the worst of intentions.