It just so happens that today is the day that Richie Valens and Buddy Holly and all died, so I decided to put together a song. And…. go:
—–
Dirty
Why does it seem so easy
when i’m sifting thru this shit
to get my hands so dirty
to fall inside of it
For me it’s just so easy
to wash myself in rain
to clean myself from the inside out
to watch it down the drain
So why are you so dirty?
Why can’t you keep clean?
A million hands all over you
from every place you’ve been
Why are you so dirty?
The dirt that stains your skin
the filth you put inside of you
and holds the pain you’re in
i can’t get addicted
no matter how i try
i push myself and break myself
i still can’t explain why
i feel so fuckin’ dirty
the stains that paint my skin
but then i clean myself off
it never could sink in
you’d think we’d learn our lesson
not to roll in mud and dirt
once the dirty starts seeping in
the stains are bound to hurt
so why are you so dirty?
why the fuck can’t you keep clean?
you let them taint you everywhere
they’re everywhere you’ve been
why are you so dirty?
can’t you see the filth they bleed?
you welcome them inside your head
you know not what you need
—-
Moral of the story, kids? Don’t do drugs.
So, this week has got me thinking a lot about relationships and women and why I’ve tried to avoid mixing the two so wholeheartedly in the past. To me, at least in past experience, a mixture of women and relationships has literally fizzled down to nothing more than a foamy mixture, frothing of anger, that can best be compared to the effects of mixing Mentos and Coke (but much less tasty). Maybe I just have bad luck choosing women to have relationships with or maybe I just see too much potential and not enough actual positives. Either way, I feel the need to comment about relationships. This is directly reflecting upon my last relationship, but also a few previous to that.