I cant take
The precise measurements
Given in a recipe book
It even makes me dumber
My brain swells
Just by reading it
So Id rather eat some expired biscuits
Here at my nook.
Im done with my cigarette now
And I still crave for another one
My lungs are already dying with nicotine
Well at least Im not.
The choir of mosquitoes
Keeps banging on my ear
filled with wax.
They make this noise
As if I want an encore
I wish they knew
I need to relax.
A strand of my hair
Went almost burning
Because of this stupid candle
I call light,
It smelled like an overcooked food:
A baked cake made by my mother.
My cold beer
Taste even much of urine
Than a soft liquor,
But it does anaesthetise
How morbid this night is.
