An Argument in Favor of Being Static

in bed looking at the ceiling
neck of a bottle in my hand
hanging from my outstretched arm
it's two a.m. and i'm lethargic
drunk again and exhausted
but it'll be eons before i'm tired enough to sleep

the screams from the ground floor
tear through paper-thin walls.
i slam the door and turn up the volume
tiny speakers provide no relief
something's itching in my brain
i need a new frontier to heal my eyes

i take a swig and grab my keys
dodge the conflagration of conversation
waiting to consume my flesh in the living room
and storm out the back door in a sweat
my car parked at the end of the lawn
waiting for me to turn her on

and maybe she gets bad mileage
but she solves the one problem i have
of being stuck in the one place
i swore to myself i'd escape from
a decade ago in a swampy playground
outside of my elementary school

i roll a thing of circumstances
and smoke it on the back roads
on the way to anywhere but here
cars pass me by, passing glances
"who's this wing nut hipster-goon?
get out of my way before i mow you down!"

so i turn off my headlights
and zoom across three lanes of traffic
trying to prove a point.and that point is this.
i wanna be in your way. i want to fuck with your head.
i wanna go down in a blaze of cheap scotch and gasoline
i want my tox screen and my autopsy to be anything but clean.

so maybe someday i will, but today i think
i'll just sit at my desk and write another song
because if it all plays out the way i've been planning
i won't be sitting at this desk for long.