Empty Tank

I'm learning to loathe
the gas light
on my dash
which screams at me
the way my father used to scream at me
reminding me of my place in society
and how I will never seem to have enough
or be enough
why does everything always have to be so damn tough?

Today is supposed to be a new day
but instead it's just another day
of struggling with myself
to lose myself
while trying to find myself
while it always starts out a little different
it always seems to end the same

What is this sick and twisted game?
Amidst this crowd
I am alone
Just looking for a place to call home
Inside I am a child
Outside I'm full grown

Flick away the cigarette
Tired of kissing butts
There's got to be a way to get out of this rutt
What happened to my dreams?
Better yet what happened to my hope?
Maybe I left it on the table
When I picked up my dope

I've got 250 contacts in my phone
but what good is calling folks
who never seem to be home?

Pack my life into more boxes
wondering where my other sock is

There's nothing like being stuck
But I can't be like them
I've got to give a fuck


If only I could get enough money for gas
I could put enough fuel in my tank
to move on to the next town
the next crowd
the next site where I can drown
my sorrows
At the sadness of today being the last of my tomorrow's