Good Morning

Scraping film away your eyes awake to quite the sight

A strobing TV static flares the neon motel light

A tray of ash so full

A candle burns at both it's ends

A stack of empty bottles posing in the corner as your friends

This place is a scene and now you believe

This place is obscene, and you gotta leave

"Good Morning" sir the sirens plead as they go laughing by

Through the pane they bleed urgency inside

The smell of failed attempts and bad decisions

Now only to fill your lungs

The taste of bitter sweet guilt now resides on your tongue

This place is a scene and now you believe

Dig your bearings up from beneath the sweaty sheets

To find the scary freezing holy carpet at your feet

Rise away from last nights tomb to see more in the view

The resting place of many resonates the morning dew

Find yourself now reaching out for what is real

Your sense of self belongs in a few belongings you can feel

A broken necklace hugs a lonesome matchbook at the seams

An empty wallet shows a picture that you've never seen

This place is a scene and now you believe

This place is obscene, and you gotta leave