Twenty four, seven

Don’t need this, why can it not end with this.
Bothered my life, disrupted from seven to eleven,
Thank god I never wasted my life, and ended up having a wife.
Already made my dive, and soon the hand will strike past five.

Good-bye, so long, fare well.
See yah, wouldn’t want to be ya.
Sayonara, to the putrid visions of my retina.
Getting away from Miss Miser’ a,
Heading my way out,
Too the stretched out keys,
of my Miss Florida.

Wasted my twenty-four, sorry,
Nothing here too adore.
Heading for stretched out keys,
Of Miss Florida.
Seven days away from my murd’a.
Thanks for wasting my life.
Miss Miser’ a.

It’s stretched out land,
Speeding past limits, from the damned.
Faster to get away from the damned.
Not going to miss it, getting away from all my misery misfits,
drive right past Memphis.

I’m the express man, the delivery man,
Runaway man.
As fast as you can flatten, for you I lived,
For me to abandon.

So…
Good-bye, so long, farewell.
Leaving yah, bet I won’t be coming back for yah.
Adios, to the disgusting smells of diarrhea,
Getting away from Miss Miser’ a


Good-bye, to my misery,
Gone forever.

So long, to my misery,
Never more.

Farewell, to my misery,
You went out like a wasted whore.


Thanks for subtracting my life,
No more time.
Twenty-four,
  added to my life.