Funeral

I can't leave my bed as I'm always half asleep,

Got no nice munch so I never eat.

N I toke like a chimney til I can't breathe,

So I'm a mental wreck n I've always been.

But I hate myself but that's alright,

N I drug myself to get through the night.

And I tell myself that's its no blight,

That I'm a paranoid mess but I'm always right.

I used to 2 b a bandit n always on the run,

Slept in cars but only if I had a gun,

I had cooch on call if I wanted some fun,

But I hate the light so I stayed out the sun.

See the life I lead is pressure on the soul,

N I think I've spent half of it, on the rock n roll.

Need to love myself coz my bodies getting old,

N it only takes an hour to spend 2 weeks dole.

I think I've been put, on too many ban lists, 

Even the NHS ban my rhymes, it takes the piss.

Yanks think I elected Trump, what a bunch of tits,

Of course I'm a disinfo agent, on multiple no-fly lists.

So everybody hates my guts n that's alright,

I sometimes get mardy, so I like to fight.

Hopefully I'll take enuff meds to sleep 2nite,

Don't count on it, coz my brain keeps on a light.

I'm a pale white anaemic, other people's bloods flowing in me,

Been stabbed so much, got far 2 many scars 2 see.

N when I cop a charge I always bag a plea,

Coz blue mattress cells seen 2 much of me.

So nobody loves me but that's alright,

N someone might love me n that's their plight.

I love the pain of being stuck with chivs, n that aint right,

But TBH no1 gives 2 flyin fucks, about my shite.

So I don't give a shit, what ppl think no more,

But I'm still a gent n will hold open a door.

I may no longer be rich so it's hard being poor,

But cud be worse, at least I don't sleep on the floor.

 

© 2022 Rob Reid - Hospital Collection 2