There I was, sitting in my filth.
Still high on those five cheap beers and you.
Words can be tough, boring, simple and magical at same times.
I was living on your perfect imperfection.
A prolific asshole.
Judging you wouldn’t be my best decision.
You made me transcend to your own world of broken whiskey bottles, stained sheets, women with big asses and creation.
Whatever it was, it inspired.
Inspiring, inspiring, INSPIRING.
Yeah making it loud would help.
A yellow light was still there on the neighborhood.