A Brave Face

I feel so fucking tired,
I've been putting on
a brave face for so
fucking long.

My life has stalled,
I wait every day til
4 'O' Clock, or so,
when I start drinking.
That's all I do, wait,
and drink.
I don't know what to do.

No way am I going to
listen to a smug, sexless
counsellor trying to tell
me what I should be doing
with my life.

Those idiots don't know
a thing about me, or my
life, they never, ever will.

They've probably smoked
a few spliffs at University,
have they known smack
withdrawal ?
Have they known the alkies
feeling of needing an eye
opener as soon as they
wake up ?
Have they fuck ! Phonies !
Phonies, and fakes !

I'll die before I'll prostate
myself before any of those
middle class fakers.

I have tried, believe me
I've tried.

They were useless, worse
than useless.
Thy haven't got a fuckin'
Scooby.
I felt worse after their kind
of false concern, and total
bullshit idea of empathy.

I feel so fucking tired,
but nobody knows me
better than me.
I'll sort it out, myself,
and if I don't ?
Well, it's alright Ma,
it's life, and life only.