I am a god of filth and vermin
I am lost in the streets
I am bound for jail
I am a fancy bird without a nest
skills never honed are my curse
skull rubble of yesterday in my pocket
if I could speak I would tell you
never bother to try
I have a favorite way to escape
it haunts my dreams
stories of winning seem so sad
when all I can do is lose
see the females all ready for fun
see the tears sliding down
I desire to become a clown
wrecking a rodeo
but my desires are weak and pointless
I never make anything happen
except for wicked weapons
and broken hourglasses