Therapy For Gangsters

I had a lucid dream, that’s a dream you can control and in this dream, all I did is stay alive forever. I’m not going to wake up ‘til the day we die together and Satan writes a letter to me sayin’ life forever.

Sometimes you gotta wound yourself so you can heal somethin’, I’d rather feel sadness than feel nothing, a knot up in your stomach means that something reals comin’. I’d rather feel that than feel nothin’. Sometimes I break down and cry when I think about my dad’s death but my dad has never died,  he’s alive and sleetin’ blood down in hail, that’s the weather. I take a sewing needle, stitch myself back together. I’m sleep deprived and hung over but at least alive, the rhythm of the world and me were never synchronized. It’s printed on my prescription bottle. Mix some alcohol with this and that’s a better way to wobble.

Toggle forces. White queens, black horses. One tally for every smile Mac forces. Scratch it on the prison wall. Being a father is not that difficult. Be a man. Get involved. Hit the abortion and the methadone clinic, need to kill two birds, find a stepping stone, pick it up, throw it. Just because I got the white boy voice and some big words don’t mean I’m a poet, I’m a gangster.

Spin the dreidel baby, spin the driedel, this is therapy for gangsters. 

I had a lucid dream, that’s a dream you can control and in this dream, all I did is stay alive forever. I’m not going to wake up ‘til the day we die together and Satan writes a letter to me sayin’ life is precious.