I fell asleep smoking so I'd wake up on fire, cause that might get me out of bed for awhile. And back into battle with the things that I breathe, and the holes in my arms, and the way that I think. And if freedom is doing what I want, well that means i gotta know what that is, not just what it isn't. So I'll dig up some dirt and I'll throw down some seeds, because the world needs more spinach, not more mother fuckers like me.

If home is where the heart is, then I live in my upper chest. Ignore this terrible drug, pretend it's not happening.