In appreciation

Thanks to the one-man on the bar stool,
You’ve given me a fresh supply of not being able to.
Its not bad or great,
Just a laundry list of what the fuck?
And whose to blame?
I can always hit mutate,
Replicate like bacteria and facilitate those situations
Where it feels like gravity is another investor in my demise.
Unwilling to let the overhead float above the margins.
We’re drinking the error
And I’m oh-so-consolable
By the amount of hope that has been shoved up my ass

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