The Hotel

The Hotel

This is not a new view-
Time to pick a clue-
This isn’t post crash rehab déjà voodoo-
Not some out of body doldrums-you just fell into-
not a matter of who needs who
who loves who whose saving who-
a matter of who abducts who
whose corrupting who whose
killing who-
And whose God you’ll cling to-
screaming for dear life
as that bombshell mannequin-
you used to call a wife-
Buries her discount dollar store wedding cake knife
deep into your back – on date rape night
Carving in black and blood stained blue
The words ‘die happy’ as a funeral tattoo-
With dope fiend needles all the while huffin’ glue-
At a roach motel hot tub death suite w/a view-
Pay no mind she was a waste of a womb
And you? Another victim evicted from a foreclosed tomb-

No birth right, no death notice, no epitaph no name
just a gaping hole-that your corpse once claimed-
No worries my friend-you’ll be born again

Parlez vous Deja Vu you’ll ask her – with a sardonic grin-
looking for an angel’s way out and a devil’s way in-
to play the same sucker in the same movie you already died in-

It’s a line of self deceit which suits you well well suited to wear your wreck of a shell-
a post modern rent to own prison cell

Faces? You remember faces- but no names
if you walked up and said hello “remember me” would that be insane?-
No-you’re not deranged
You’re estranged from the trail-
with no path to success you can’t stop pass or fail
Straight jailed in a cage – of fugues-and hungover guilt-
For burning down the house that Faith Hope & Love built-

But your guilt is garbage- not fit for the trash
A worthless piece of paper pawned off as cash-
an empty filthy dirty bag-
drifting ‘tween the Bible and the bottle on a late night jag
Hung over, Dope sick, broke and jet-lagged
peddling white noise, sex toys, red tape and black flags
Whoring itself out for a shag, bag, and a drag-

yeah….it makes you sad, the phrase she spoke…sexy little hag…one more toke…breath or choke…then the final stroke to the killing joke…
wearily wearily wearily wearily…
life is but a smoke x4

By Th3 ΔRch3Ty¶3
Taken From ‘A Series On Self Destruction
(Fire At The Movies)’


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s