Hey, What Time Is 'pensacola: Wings Of Gold'

It's killing time

The TV's on with a bottle of shit

Buried needle

The record player has forgotten not to spin, so, you're feeling useless?

Well, the bidding starts at $19.95

And while the survey says 'cheers and applause' another hour dies

Jacking off again

40 oz in the fridge

Have these dreams put to sleep

So call me up and tell me something

I'm dying to believe

I dunno

I don't care

I just sit and stare now

I don't think

I just listen to the drone of this old being

(I just listen to the voice of this machine)

Friday night, steppin' out and talkin' to the same fucking people

"So, how's your family?"

"How was school?"

Conversation strain

Force endurance from this class

It's 11:45

Two more hours lumber past and I feel like I tried

(Sight of profound apathetic despair)

Fucking off again

Talking to this bitch, she hates me

I hate her

So shut me up and take me somewhere

I'm dying to leave