Hotdogs and battery acid

Man,
fuck,
 hotdogs and battery acid
you should never just ass out
 in a glass house
 full of dads couch
 stains from that beer
and those happy or sad tissues he keeps piled near the ashtray in the front
I might score a blunt
 but most likely i’ll break
that glass dick,
that glass pipe,
 he takes hits,
there's no good nights,
only them waves, beat in insights, beaten in spite,
 keep that shit in,
 let school see nice,
bent broke 3 times,
 buried, but never been right,
 so it seems wrong to just bring life into breath,
when death just seems right,
and this life seems to just be strife,
but we gleam all in glee like,
Fuck man,
can I catch a break?