It's easy to swell up
With fluid
Inside
When you
Lose the way to make money
Downward into the sewers
You go
Where it stinks down there
You know
While you're
Barely hanging on to
The stink there
In your pity pot
Of flowing tears
Above
So you go outside
Into the sun
Tied to four-point stakes
Drying up
Inside
With fluid
Gushing
With thoughts
Of pi$$ing it all away.
