Tell me what to type.

I murdered someone with a screwdriver tonight,

And I’m afraid that made me feel way too right..

My friends said I was alright,

But who knows what they know with their scabbed over eyesight.

–

Alright, now I see,

That depending on the summer or winter’s eve,

That I will eventually run out of steam.

My engine will rip at the seams.

I’ll be okay, or so it seems, to me.

–

But give me one moment.

My eyes are too big and stuck cement.

Idiot, sell me the sales with vehement

Sighs colored with crayons. The whole allotment.

I am a stain on the pavement.