What can I say? Same old words; different day. I'll use the same thing tomorrow,

how can I get through this sorrow? I'm stuck in a rut that I dug myself, how do I

manage to do this on every shelf? I'll write and write, but it's not light. Dark as

midnight and mean as fuck, I roll around and land with a tuck. How did I do that? I

don't know, where at? Where did I get this idea from? I know it's not from the rum.

As I run through the night I turn left; meaning to turn right. I missed the path and

hit the bridge, the wood instead of earth warned me of the fringe. I laugh and stop,

turning around to hop. I got back to the spot, turning left; now I get caught. How

long did I go? thieving is my favorite thing to show. I got thirty miles away, maybe

they didn't underestimate me today. I run for a living and stop for nothing, I don't

mind when they catch me huffing and puffing. It's hard to fight an enemy who has

nothing to lose, come with me and feel my ruse. Trust me, I am the one with

nothing to lose.