30 Left

You can try to get ahead/
Rise up early and get out of bed/
But all they do is cut you back/
Chop you down like a little lumber Jack/
Your bones ache from the physical labour/
No stength to lift a finger, so you linger/
There on the couch and turn off your ringer/
No cell service, because the ratea are too high/
And all you can do is scrape by/
With the change in your pocket/
No longer is there a picture in her locket/
You feel like a forgotten colour/
Cold, no warmth from a lover/
She left like there was no right turn/
Now you lay awake and wait to burn/
Another cigarette,another woman of the night/
Another dollar bill on the dancer in the light/
So you count the minutes until you get payed next/
Realize you can't make rent, so you send that text/
To your best friend asking for a hand out/
But he's just as broken down as you, so you shout/
"How do we make ends meet, how do we eat?"/
"How do we afford to live, when there's theives in the street?"/
"How do we stay positive, when all we do is drink?"/
Just to ease the pain, to see through the window of rain, to forget how to think/
Then you turn your music up so loud that you can't focus/
And the space around you feels like it's covered in swarming locusts/
It's like the plague that you don't know how to escape/
So you pray and hope that it isn't the path of your fate/