so im here

so im here
with my girl
and i sit
with nice feel
the noise was loud
and now soft
the chair was hard
and cushions puffed
they dont know how
to live shit well
they just drive
straight to hell
every night
they hit the town
rubbing alcohol
into the frown
the wounds are salted
and the kids are salty
like a pressure cooker
not quite ready
bitching and itching
roaming and groaning
climbing and crying
its like the gloaming
radiohead cd
in the player
not quite right
but fit the air
the kids were crazy
talkin over each other
babblin shit
like fucked up brothers
and im sittin here
drivin the car
or sittin with her
drivin far
as they talk
and we drive
they do shout
we feel alive
but their life comes
from the bottle
whereas ours is from
sigur ros shuttles