The Taste

I have been a lot of places,
I have liked a lot of boys.
Caused my share of trouble
and I've made my share of noise.
I painted over secrets
that I wrote onto my walls.
better to write them there
then to never face them at all.
So maybe I'm a coward,
I can admit to my fear
I hate to make choices
cause my head is rarely clear.
I'm not the girl in front of you
she seems so self assured
but at night in the mirror
I don't recognize her.

So I open a bottle
or I fill up a pipe
I might not have a clue but
I can at least enjoy the ride.
Momma wouldn't be proud
but what did she expect?
The black sheep is a black sheep
has she figured it out yet?
I have nothing in my pocket
at least not till Thursday
I hate living like this
waiting to get off on payday.
I'm thirsty for something
that I have yet to find
but I know if I don't soon
I will lose my fucking mind.

It's not about a suitcase
or a home with my name on it.
don't try to read into me
there is no hooked on phonics
for the kind of girl I am
exploding at the temples
too much going on in my head
I never was a good example.
Try to understand me
I haven't given up,
I know there is something more
I just have no idea the what
or the who I will go it with
nobody has ever stuck
and I could blame myself
but I prefer to blame my luck.

So this is getting older.
nothing fell into place.
I spent too long trying
to fill up empty space.
but just because I'm behind
it doesn't mean I've lost the race
sometimes life is bitter
but I still love the taste.