slow motion cigarettes hang from your sweaty lips    five bottles of stale, pissy ale    stumble to your pale wrists thin man    with unkept hair clean shave but a glassy stare    you've lost it all boy and so young    I'll remember times like these with a bit of satisfaction    I remember somber days and with more to come    surely won't forget them    stick figure twig of a boy toothy grin    a slim bit of poise he says    "I'll take you down with one blow"    and though we laugh, he does quite well    these are times where we all look onward    not what's now but what's to come    a lot of pride and a shade of hope    am I the only one who gets the fucking joke?