I tempt superstition with each saltshaker I swipe
Skeptic to the myth of a sad waiter's life
Six-packs delight in sparrow-sung daylight
Styrofoam dinners don't require a knife
I tempt depression with each application I submit
Green like the chlorophyll of my con artist tips
Restaurant after restaurant, double shift after double shift
Debt letters are head hunters, credit score is shit
I tempt rejection with each bachelorette I schmooze
Trolley car, martini bar, beach, gym, and zoo
The Bay Area is unbeknownst and transcendentalism is too
How can I buy a loft if I can't buy a clue?
I tempt provocation with each right-winged hypocrisy
Republicans rule roundtables in three-pieced Armani
For the kings all the money, for the kingdoms Three-Card Monty
I've never dined in Napa but I've died in Death Valley
I tempt retaliation with each Plexiglas jaw
The left jab of diamond ads, the right hook of Milan
To be or not to be, a silver-tongue devil with a booth at the mall
A nine-to-five brownnoser or a brick in the wall
This imprisoned existence has been romantic at times although misery, obscurity, and poverty are starting to consume me. I've been mired in financial ruin, isolated, and aching. But I'm thankful for the experiences and this overdue awakening. This transformation had made me realize what's required for living honorably, still it's scary the possibility of never having a family of my own. What brand of miracle will bring relaxation to my soul? City life isn't bad but it's just not home. The hustle and bustle that captivated me has suddenly grown old. Extreme idleness is not fashionable for distraught men, it's merely legendary; a fire in the belly for Kerouac and Hemingway.