used to play in bars
and coffee shops
made more in one night
than most would make in a month
but i felt like a whore
playing the same stupid songs
again and again and again
i never wanted to be
a dancing monkey
juke box
sometimes i would just do my thing
and some idiot would always say
can you play any happy songs
but i never did because happy songs suck
so i just sang my sad songs
like a miserable fuck
somehow got through the nights
got paid in cash like an escort
or an assassin or something
but i didn’t mind
because this made me feel like
some kind of outlaw high way man
who apparently got brutally murdered in a past life
according to this guy who told me one time on skype
called himself a soul plumber
said he cured all my family curses
and that i have 15 guardian angels
what now i asked after the call
he told me to go to vietnam
for pussy and beer
be free, be happy
that’s all
the years went by and i continued
to do my thing
created my own kingdoms of song
always crowned myself king
eventually i would get bored
of tying loose ends and settling scores
switched cities and countries
had girlfriends and one night stands
used prepaid burner phones
wrote poetry when i felt like i wanna die
sometimes i got drunk and high
looked for myself in novels
fell in love with broken girls
but they couldn’t handle me
and refused to be saved
my fake names always helped me escape
ran away so fast and far that
i still don’t know who i am or where i’m going
so instead i’m just gonna be
happy as fuk