Sitting, watching. My shoes they're walking without me. What the f**k? The mirror has moved but I have not. Outside looking in sadness, mood swing lack in connection. Ignorant in the words I choose accidents of a universe. Swigs from the flask that's attatched to my hip. We're exploring the unknowing the emptiness sit back and have a drink. You can smoke if you want to. Coffee stains on the jeans, nicotine clinging to our sparkling whites. Baseball creap through the beat-up radio. Sitting in piss colored vinyl chairs wine glasses are our ash trays. Jesus hangs on a pedestal bloody and bruised. The dream of moral men.