Sick and Stoned

Sick and stoned,

reverie slowed,

words will always hurt me.

Stoned and sick,
full of shit,
a louche that's just too libertine
varifying slobs attain the second base
yes man, but not at my place;
Room's never clean,
I'm at hers every week,

predicting that she'll desert me.

full of woe,
it's whatever though,
one day I will be worthy.