Ready for anything
As long as it isn’t something
Because it always is
Because she is dying
And he is not
Because she is leaving
And he gave everything
And sometimes, it just doesn’t fucking matter
Because today I am nothing
And she loves me anyway
And that is something
Because it doesn't always work that way
Because the time isn't right
Because I have nothing left
And that isn't going to work
Because my blood is boiling
And the concrete is too
Because the heat of this city is angry
And so am I
Because I never thought I would be here
And that is a problem
Because, you see, “times are tough”
And today I can't write
I can't make it right
Because he is murderer
And a rapist
And I can't bring them back
I can't take it back
Because sometimes there is just shit on the streets
And God won’t pick it up
Because “we have a choice”
And the guy under the bridge would probably disagree
And we wouldn't listen
Because he is under the bridge
Because he was ready for anything and was given something
That pulled him down, buried him and made him hard to hear
Because we don't see faces anymore
Just dirt
And bold black letters on a bright white page
Because we are business cards and timelines
And updated copies of ourselves
Because blank stares and handshakes make the deal
And who gives a shit about tomorrow
Because there is money to made
And blood to be spilt
Because like oil, it is thicker than water
And like gold, it can buy anything
Because men on T.V. feed us their bullshit
As they rape little boys, use hookers as toys
And their wives, they stand silently by
Because the faggots and dykes are the problem
And terrorists are working our fields
Because Arizona is not so far away
Just look in your own back yard
Because today a book is judged by its cover
And the story inside doesn’t matter
Because equal opportunity isn’t equal
But is sure as hell is opportunistic
Because we lead with our hearts
Which are dark
And that is why we are afraid
And fear is pungent
And it is easier to extend our distance
Than our hands
Because we are grasping on to anything
And today, for me, that shit is nothing
But tomorrow it could be something
Because, you see, it always is
As long as it isn’t something
Because it always is
Because she is dying
And he is not
Because she is leaving
And he gave everything
And sometimes, it just doesn’t fucking matter
Because today I am nothing
And she loves me anyway
And that is something
Because it doesn't always work that way
Because the time isn't right
Because I have nothing left
And that isn't going to work
Because my blood is boiling
And the concrete is too
Because the heat of this city is angry
And so am I
Because I never thought I would be here
And that is a problem
Because, you see, “times are tough”
And today I can't write
I can't make it right
Because he is murderer
And a rapist
And I can't bring them back
I can't take it back
Because sometimes there is just shit on the streets
And God won’t pick it up
Because “we have a choice”
And the guy under the bridge would probably disagree
And we wouldn't listen
Because he is under the bridge
Because he was ready for anything and was given something
That pulled him down, buried him and made him hard to hear
Because we don't see faces anymore
Just dirt
And bold black letters on a bright white page
Because we are business cards and timelines
And updated copies of ourselves
Because blank stares and handshakes make the deal
And who gives a shit about tomorrow
Because there is money to made
And blood to be spilt
Because like oil, it is thicker than water
And like gold, it can buy anything
Because men on T.V. feed us their bullshit
As they rape little boys, use hookers as toys
And their wives, they stand silently by
Because the faggots and dykes are the problem
And terrorists are working our fields
Because Arizona is not so far away
Just look in your own back yard
Because today a book is judged by its cover
And the story inside doesn’t matter
Because equal opportunity isn’t equal
But is sure as hell is opportunistic
Because we lead with our hearts
Which are dark
And that is why we are afraid
And fear is pungent
And it is easier to extend our distance
Than our hands
Because we are grasping on to anything
And today, for me, that shit is nothing
But tomorrow it could be something
Because, you see, it always is
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