Corruption

Children, Broadripple is burning and the girls are getting sick off huffing glue in the bathroom, while their boyfriends pick up chicks. And, darling, I'm lost. I heard you whispering that night in Fountain Square, the trash-filled streets made me wish we were heading home. There was love inside the basement where that woman used to lie, in a sleeping bag we shared upon the floor almost every night. Darling, I'm drunk. And everything that I had loved has turned to stone. So pack your bags and come back home. If my man was a fire, he'd burn out before I wake and be replaced by pints of whiskey, cigarettes, and outer space. Then somebody moves and everything you thought you had has gone to shit. Well, we've got a lot. Don't ever forget that. And I wrote this on an airplane where the people looked like ants. And then a man that you loved was gone; he was bombing East Japan. Don't fucking move, because everything you thought you had will go to shit. We've got a lot. Don't you dare forget that. 

And I'm wasted. You can taste it. Don't look at me that way, because I'll be hanging from a rope. I will haunt you like a ghost.