Lunatic Fringe

And we all make it so cool, when we take our turns. Me though, I just fake it, pull a dazed grin and fake at being cool. I wear every bad beat like a badge, and I got a story to match. Maybe these guys fake too, must be they play it better than me, I can’t see a crack, no tells showin'. Maybe it hasn’t gotten them yet, but then, we ain’t young anymore, maybe just not old enough yet to break. Me at least, I got an old soul, with the cracks and leaks and chipping paint to prove it, ‘least I can read me like a book, but that's easy. Not these guys though, old hands at poker, every last one. Except for this guy, I see now, he’s crackin’ too. Calls her crazy in off-hand ways, the other guys laugh- yea they play it cool- they’re all crazy. Me I just smile, I don’t fake so good anymore. Me, I’m feelin’ that bad beat too. Looks like he’s getting hot, it’s gettin’ late. We all just laugh, fellas say she's getting mad, no, she’s just gettin’ a cab, gonna get outta here, looks like sh

My head spins when I get something in it, when I lie down everything just starts coming off sideways. Guess I really am unbalanced. Give it time, sleep on it, you’ll see it too, different vantage, different point of view. I thought about figuring out a different change, new solutions to old problems, shoot the idea in mind full of holes, but then I get a sneaking suspicion that these are sinking thoughts. Next thing you know, they’ll tell me hope floats, I know better, down here everything stinks. Someone said something once, about a sad girl, a long time ago, to me. But I won't bore you with the details, I'll tell you something else that's mundane instead. And here's what I told her. And I'll be specific. What’s passed is past, I’m sure you're smiling now, being unhappy about being sad is never a condition that lasts too long, it's important to remember that. In any case it’s when you realize nothing at all is a condition that lasts too long, that you’re r

Our hearts fill with darkness, our souls become black. Days wane, are replaced by eminent night. Like this we fade away, destined to become a part of the echoes. Our words, and their meanings, lost amongst the shadows. Could we have done a thing differently? I don't think so, there's no going back, once there's been a change of heart. That's beyond me now, something the past digs up when it's inconvenient. All we can be sure of, all I can be certain of, is a grainy look at the emotional remains, of anything that once was, remnants of feelings and prejudices and battles now past. Though to recollection they're just as vital, just as anxious as they are in truth, dead. Diseased and deceased I suppose. A bunch of feelings, and thoughts no longer healthy enough to be amongst the living. Still they endure, beyond time they linger, we move on, we move away, but we know the truth is somewhere back there, in time, and in place. Me? I like to lay about the graveyard, I&#