bad batch

All for a bad batch.

phone calls to a boy i cannot trust
useing a friend is of course a must.
fifty dollars from mothers bag,
what a child i have become. it might be sad.

drowning in memories of His love
crying brittle ice just for what was.
please give me a little more...
oh, my love for you is ever more.

All just for a bad batch.

bundled up tight against the wind
as only mother could have made me in child-skin.
frozen inside out
give me some more, i know death i wont doubt.

but what about life--
the one i seek to destroy in strife?
or those who see me be
with stregnth for everyone, even me.

All for a bad batch.

Hurrled to the floor
in my own pathetic rage, "you whore!"
what else for me to do?
forget me and never think of you.

As finished as the moon and sun
a few more beers and something fun.
I will stay alive
as long as I am awake to die.