Whiskey and Trazadone

Blinded by my own mind,

Cursed by the lack of a days time.

What happens when the sun can't shine,

And my low affect inhibits my ability to rhyme.

My pa,

He said I should be fine,

He said I should enjoy the years of my prime,

No excuse for a lazy man bitching,

While your fam is out stitting shit to make their life sublime.

What you think man?

You think this a game?

You don't think I wish that every little thing,

Wasn't bigger than it seems,

And that the Froese drive,

The Froese family pride could achieve all my dreams?

They're more like nightmares,

The shit that might scare,

Any person with a father figure who care,

And so,

I'm all alone,

In that zone,

Drinking dry whiskey and popping trazadone.