Local Joke

Those kinds of things never bother me
'Cause I’m the local joke
Her sun burnt eyes roll
She calls me 'the broken spoke
Never been late to fuck with fate
And see her phrases choke
But part of me wants to watch and laugh
As they go up in smoke
Constantly crossing paths
With all the empty traits
You’d better leave things just unsaid
Then left to contemplate
All my words trip as they leave my lips
I’ve come to set things straight
She needs an excuse to end things and
Become the things you hate