County morgue. Counting corpses. Another quarter in the arm. Blarinnnng the radio; Deranged little heart. Damn drunk. Delinquent punk. Take a shot. Finish. Park. I read your letter. I think to myself – We didn’t know each other. How could I be someone else? How can I miss what I never really had? How can I go on line for your drug? There’s no rehab. Another cigarette. All by my lonesome. Pal the whole thing Ain’t exactly f——’ wholesome. Sloppy lipstick blown, dried From a whore, I don’t know her name. For sure I’ve been crying. Over an angel faced snake. Keep driving I-55 Till I’m out of state . Im no hero; I’m a heroin whore. Sit ‘round and wonder What this life is for. You say I need to change – I’ll get right on it. You say I’m still the same – a lousy son of a b—*- The work and the coffee. The nail and the coffin. The only thing I know – nothing. Savoring No one beside me here in the front seat. Listening to this fine tape deck. One at a time. Throughout my lotto tickets And all your cassettes. Your Loretta Lynn and your Tammy Wynette. Glory days in taverns; Restroom stall peaks . Pissing the addiction. shooting physique. I’m no hero; I’m just a heroin whore. Sit round and wonder what… My life is for…. Homesick for the room. Colt 45 attitude. A bit of reminder, A Street faced straight razor. This man, a common criminal Rich swindlers’ Scag city fortunes . Spare time spent hours In the sack with a bag. Bone the laced ladies Sucked radical. A laced cigarette drag, Then her slow movement south. Dope nurturing hopes Inflated liquor, store, dreams, and food stamps redeemed. The ***Damn God awful Jacked up lethal dirty work. What the f—-. Whatever. I’m no hero, I’m a heroin whore; Sit round and wonder what this life is for. (One…mmmmm….two three, four…) Growl at the maroon Sunny afternoon. Howl at the moon Through. The chaos camaraderies , the old flag atrocities Your friendliness made me feel something, somehow. But that’s all over now. I’m sorry. I’m guilty. Surely you’re innocent; It’s evident. In your civilized smile. I close the door to my windowless room. Tie on the dinosaur. And nod for a while. I’m no hero. I’m a heroin whore. Sit ‘ round and wonder What this life is for.
