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Sing ’it > Entries | Inskrywings

“4 am” by Spencer Whittle


Spencer Whittle - 2011-11-11

 

 

4 a.m.

Crying in the shower
Letting the madness bloom!
It has me in its grip at this hour,
Gotta get out, away with this empty room!

Everything is always right,
All the horror of an early night

I’m on my couch.
Coffee, smokes and a terror to boot!
Causes me to slouch,
Others think it’s a hoot

Nothing is right!
Due to this horrific fright.

Advertising was my game.
Mirrors, blades and R100 notes.
Lines to make my name!
In black tar-pits I float.

It’s all screwed now, a blight!
Upon my soul, I cease to take flight.

Houghton House my new home,
Six weeks they said it would take
My being is now chrome!
Relapsed again, no cake

What happened that night?

Don’t expect me to lie by Spencer Whittle

I’m the one who follows you back home
To that place where the trees’ shade is ample cover
Yes, I have a dome, it’s a clone
I got it from my younger brother

Time and time again you refuse my courting
Time and time again I have nothing to say

It’s 12 o’clock and it’s a wonderful day
Come with me to a place in a little town
To a little cabin where we could role-play
The beast with two backs should not cause you to frown

Time and time again you refuse my courting
Time and time again I have nothing to say

I was once so hammered I cooked spaghetti in the kettle
That oblivion is much missed
After the 4th gram, hard to settle
Yip, on the couch I hissed

Time and time again you refuse my courting
Time and time again I have nothing to say

I feel your eyes closing
Revolting man
OK, so supposing
I got clean … love weighs a gram.

Time and time again you refuse my courting
Time and time again I have nothing to say