A mentor once said, "I've have no doubt you have great imagination, but you lack commitment."
Isn't that the case, the prettiest words flowing from this cowards tongue?
Hey Vince, lets go die on the barricades, die for our ideals, die like our heroes.
I'm always lost to the mytho-poetic, I'm always waiting for Hector,
The truth is it revolts me to be human,
Fuck, I hate the need to eat, the need to sleep,
Hell, I hate the need to fuck,
Hey Sela, can you stand to read any more of my self-indulgent dribble?
You must know for all my great ideals I'm rather pathetic.
A sad sack of shit, rotting away in a world he despises.
Against so much I have often forgot what I was for.
I'm always lost to those great works of fiction,
Writing attracted me, because the characters could be sincere,
Sincere like the people I want in the world,
But always sincere like the man I need to be.
Hey Grandfather, when I was young you were my hero.
You did the kind of things I could only dream of.
I made a god out of you, and your struggle.
Then I met you, and my idol was smashed.
I'm always lost to the bottle,
At least she is my truest friend,
She never listens too carefully to what I say,
And she never expects me to become anything more,
Hey father, I hated you all my life,
Yet, everyday I go on I understand you a little more,
I understand the revulsion you felt to this world.
And in it, perhaps the revulsion you felt to me.
