I've good friends with bad habits,
what am I to do?
they're literary romantics,
they fuck like wilde,
and indulge like hemingway.
i've good friends with bad habits
and a tendency towards negligence.
just petty thieves and addicts,
that don't hurt anyone
but they'll burn anyway.
well sometimes,
like every time
a train passes,
i get jealous of the long nights,
and blurred lights,
the red eyes,
the bar fights.
the 'where in the hell am i?
and how did i get here
with one shoe?
and which way to the nearest train?'
well sometimes,
like every time she breathes,
i embrace my routine.
i've good friends with bad habits.
but what's a boy without a voice to do?
they're literary romantics,
they'll fuck like wilde,
and die like hemingway.