Ash Wednesday! Stale.

This house, the one you should have grown out of,  and left years ago is stale. 
The people seem nice at first, but ya’ll are fake as fuck. Mask wearing anti socialites. Mommy- Daddy ( issues) playing house money hungry. 
This  music scene is dead, long live the “scene”.  Long live the growing debt, of all the money you spent. Broke too many guitar strings. 
Gone are the boys, now forgotten, this club sandwich, that's been in your section of the fridge since the 7th, has all gone a rye. THROW IT OUT. IT’S TRASH. 

The mental health issues have all come to light, the distractions are all gone, 
The beer, and liquor all drunk up. Should have squirreled some away for another day. 
I bet there are aluminum soda cans littered all over your room. And pizza makes me think of you. I haven’t had pizza in almost a year. 
I wish I got to watch all the Star Wars films with you before it was too late. But at least we ended it watching Empire. 

Back to bedroom guitar playing, picking through the past. Window sills were made for rainy days. 
Would you go back? Would you start fresher? Why do people sleep with fans on in their fucking face. You’re draining. 
I haven’t seen you in awhile, and I want to keep it that way. Unless you’re coming fucking correct. Is it capable of apologies? 
I don’t think I could see you so miserable. I know you have fathered a gnome. I bet it has your soulless eyes. 

The aftermath, after the party. 
Because as you know it’s always your party, {MINE}. 
I want this show to end. I am tired, we need to pack up still, load up, and I need to drive your drunk ass home. 
It’s the same dance, and songs, I am tired of it. 

The world is quiet here. 
I can feel you, watching me. 
Aren't you tired of staring at me through the window, or a screen. I know something you don’t know. 
It rains a lot now these days, have you been crying lately in your car?  

I know you aren’t sleeping because I have been awake (end) 
Sandwich King, I am getting tired of waiting. The service here, it kinda blows. No stars! 
Who died, and claimed all condiments communal? 
Communist condiments, make for great substitutes. A lovely mayo manifesto. 

How is my sub? I bet they taste…. Stale? 
You look like a sad sandwich boy. 
Your house is crumbling, the bread soggy. 
I cut carbs out months ago, I thought you should know. 

I eat salads now, because I am trying to grow. 

- Ash Catcher