the dead clown

do you find comfort in the smoke that burns your throat? do you find peace in the brown gold that corrodes you? can you see it? the only light in this darkness, is the ray of glee of pure, innocent gin. can you believe me? oh, my poor sinner your sin was to be free. you murdered their innocence you slaughtered boredom you danced with insanity you stole their attention you left them addicted to your vanity and so they sentenced you to a life longing for death to be alone among their presence do you find comfort? in the smoke that kills you? can you forget, what the liquor makes you remember?