I want to stare at a wall
And do absolutely nothing,
Just stay like that,
Stay frozen.
I've not much will left for trying.
Now I just write some depressing shit,
Wait to get published by some careless critics,
And make my earnings as a waitress.
My boss and friends insists,
"You could do better than that"
I wait for 9 to 5 to pass,
Hope for a good weekend,
And collect my final paycheck.
I'll drive somewhere out East
With some good friends and an RV.
We'll blast some Psychedelica
On the radio
And not care where we been
Nor where we go.
While everyone we know
Looks at us and says,
"They could do better than that."
We'll travel more than for the ride.
We'll have a spree like Bonnie and Clyde
And search these hills
For a place to hide...
Away from society and all their crimes.
As we progress
And head farther our west,
The law will pass;
When even the police claim,
"They could do better than that".
I send a script from a public mailbox
To my publisher with a note,
"I'm not coming back;
And it won't be long...
Before you receive my last phone call"
My buddies and I, as Outlaws,
Look out at the road,
Smiling because we know
For a fact,
We could do better than that;
Though they think we're a joke
And that we won't
Be as good as them...
The fact they seem to lack
is, to us,
We did do better than that.
©lunarmarie
L