Over a Cigarette

I'm back
Juggling for a dollar
Sweatin'
There's a cockroach that I can't kill
Can't catch up
In the town where I live
I'm not fast
I like the wheat fields
Bron-Yr-Aur
They're everywhere
It's no matter to me
I love someone
Home is getting closer,
yet, the time between is grey
Dirty shoes, the smell of marijuana
I like that
I miss all of them
It seems that even if man is in the right place,
It can feel so wrong
I can do anything here
I can do anything anywhere else
Living slow is the key
Have a full day
A full life
I've not done anything
There has been so many moods
What about Art?
Such a word
If it's true, It's the only thing that hasn't been washed and dried
The only thing that hasn't been spit on by a fat king
It can't be
It's always going to be right in front of our lips
waiting for a whisper
I know what I have to do.