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The trip to here.
The Trip to Here.
Don’t want to know
what I did as a kid,
what might’ve happened to me,
my sister, the dog,
the faggot down the street,
Joey’s brother in that
wheeler chair of his.
Maybe the old man hit me
way too much.
Maybe not enough,
or Ma stopped with the tity juice
before I was ready.
Two wives now, and five kid’s
that can’t stand me.
A drinking & drug habit,
twelve years younger then me
says it all and,
even if there’s some good drugs
I could score out of this,
laying on some shrink’s couch
I don’t wanna know why I’m me,
or how come,
I got here this way.
