deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Way Out
Fired on a Tuesday
Walked home in the burning sun
Arrived with no one there
But a single letter
She took the dog
My Xbox and our newborn
Even the poster of Bryan Cranston
I kept on the fridge
The way out, is through
The way out, is through
She left me penniless
Good thing I don't have a temper
I'm too lazy to feel sorry
For myself today
Wandered San Diego
Paid a stripper to take me home
Woke up beside my pants
In a chapel yard
The way out, is through
The way out, is through
So far from home
With a new porcelain wife
She's got implants in the right places
And younger than me
It could be worse
Never visited Vegas before
Might as well enjoy it while I'm here
Guess I ended up on top
The way out, is through
The way out, is through
But which way back
Walked home in the burning sun
Arrived with no one there
But a single letter
She took the dog
My Xbox and our newborn
Even the poster of Bryan Cranston
I kept on the fridge
The way out, is through
The way out, is through
She left me penniless
Good thing I don't have a temper
I'm too lazy to feel sorry
For myself today
Wandered San Diego
Paid a stripper to take me home
Woke up beside my pants
In a chapel yard
The way out, is through
The way out, is through
So far from home
With a new porcelain wife
She's got implants in the right places
And younger than me
It could be worse
Never visited Vegas before
Might as well enjoy it while I'm here
Guess I ended up on top
The way out, is through
The way out, is through
But which way back
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