When your helmet is purely decorative
And your vanity comes before your life
When your house smells like cow shit all the time
And your morning chai is the best sedative
When the summer sun hits hard on your skin
Melting any clear thought you have found within
And your craving for some sanity to begin with…
Just Call me.
I’ll recite you an anti poem, You hippie bastard
I don’t know if it will help you or not
But at least we could have some good laughs, after all…
Isn’t humor worth the hazard?