Blame It All, James.
I'm drained but I don't know who or what to blame.
Constrained by fatigue, I can't think or take aim.
Is it the booze,
the bench press,
the late nights
or my forlorn soul?
Or all the above?
The lack of muse,
of success,
or delights?
Am I not whole
if I do not love?
Pained by a lack of plan in God's futile game.
Sustained only by an aversion to shame.
Constrained by fatigue, I can't think or take aim.
Is it the booze,
the bench press,
the late nights
or my forlorn soul?
Or all the above?
The lack of muse,
of success,
or delights?
Am I not whole
if I do not love?
Pained by a lack of plan in God's futile game.
Sustained only by an aversion to shame.
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