Truck Stop Casino

I tried to explain myself and not rely on this reoccurring plot
Maybe I will just admit I’m an asshole
The soles of my shoes are wearing thin
I find myself pulling too much at my skin
I will just be young with a face full of wrinkles
Maybe I don’t sleep enough, well Jesus Christ, who am I kidding?
On the corner of despair and prosperity
Too many times the sidewalk ahead of me is covered in gum and subverted disaster
Foreign tongues are all that society use to speak when they’re whispering
behind me
Talking in some strange unknown vernacular
Maybe I don’t sleep enough, well Jesus Christ, who am I kidding?
Maybe I should just shut up and try to keep my eyes ahead of me