I find a jaded path going home in a flask.
I've known side-roads that wind back.
I've gone pale white and black eye-sighted.
I invited lights inside my mind, flash bright
on an impulse of the tongue-flight.
Gnab the money, run for the gun.
Grab my glass of gin and get your ass back in
to safety. My pace's been racing away,
wasted for days. Watch my crimeful ways
cause the frame to slowly dim and fade.
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