I’m forced to sell on the streets
Problems develop into major situations difficult to make ends meet,
Stepped foot in many un-habitable habitats,
Eyes always open I constantly peer over my forever growing shoulders ,
A severe paranoia spooks and takes over me ,

Make way up the rotted wooden staircase , a boarded up door
red bloodshot eyes peer through the readymade spy hole ,
A cryptical voice sounds to greet , “how much can I do ya for”
Thumping heart engaged immensely in ecstatic adrenaline replies
“I’m five notes short of a Henry can you sort it on tic?”
Friday until pay, you cherish the day, make off like Smokey and the bandit

A few nimble hours will pass , Time stopped and halted as the thickset fog travels through every  stimulated cell in your neurological membrane
Word gets about you’ve got the best grass , text messages on your blower time goes slower ,
belated voicemails and six missed calls , pot heads everywhere climbing the walls they stand and scratch there balls , get a good whiff of that skunk shit!

you remain sat indoors cup of tea in hand, curiously listen to a few old bands, I engage and sing
what a happy place, a smiley face, cherish the moment what a happy Monday
Tell all the unwanted to get lost ,  you sit and stare, watch hours pass, smoke all the best grass, perpendicular scenic views, daisies blue bells an mud on your shoes
this is the life!