Thoughts

Rock is dead, and so is my will to live
I want to scream
I want to learn giutar and write a song,
For you, for me, to piss people off, to make people happy
To have something to do
But I won't, because I never do.

I want to go to a cemetery
And dance through the graves
No matter what anyone says
Because the corpses don't care,
And if they do they can haunt me
It wouldn't make much difference.