Gutter men

Very long, Rap-orientated style lyrics
Fairly roughly wrote, was just listening to bbng - uwm while extremely bored, figured I'd type along, anyway here's the result.
Lack of capitalization etc. Is not really something I can sort out tonight. enjoy and be harsh.

I'm a gutter man, a drifter with no will to move
I plan my travels as I walk to pick, paper plane's up from the curb
Just lucky I ever manage to cross the road
Last time I broke, I was sat at the bus stop, broke, no money, no dough
eating pastry foraged from that which the bakery throws,
travel light, why would I be carrying life
I have burdens on mass, faithless and destitute, i will not join the flock, for salvation,
thriving at mass to gain resurrection, or just to conform?
what were your intentions?
my confessions should not be exposed,
no matter how you judge, my morality, the verdicts will remain the same,
it's pretty clear god's going to meet me, before the coroner calls time,
gone before my time, what time, passed time, the clock isn't working, that's fine
I judge my days by shadows, which move across the flat,
and I've found myself trying to find myself
while talking to myself, by myself, so many times it makes a rhyme
if that's not a sign that I've wasted my life,
then shall I look back through my lines?
re-read what I write, better yet, control alter and delete the lies
unplug my life.
No surprises, no prizes, class star no longer shining
no longer smiling, not really trying
move the desk, skip the test I don't need to be, educated on what's next
I want what's left, the bits of my life which won't fuel new regrets
they seem to be the only pieces of a puzzle which I struggle to re-attach,
the happy parts, must they have been so easily forgotten,
how can I see, a clearer picture with nothing, but fragments
memories, of a time without any violence, no none of that
so I've always been watching out for myself, let nothing close
rationally detached, the cold resignation of expected cruelty
why repress that which you'll learn from,
guard your secrets from the world, but not from yourself,
trouble finds trouble, with the troubling attraction of the troubled,
couples turn to killers double trouble,
I'm trouble, and I might not be the worst but I've seen,
the bad suits and the dodgy cases,
the worst boot, is an empty one with steel hub caps,
the worst duffel bags are full of nothing, but bad intentions,
money and sensation are both equal motivation to get on the
wrong side of the wrong side, shot up the wrong way,
UV might have helped you hide before, but when you're dead in a cubicle
you won't have to, you won't know, worth the risk?,
if you have doubts avoid debt and remember it pays to be on lookout
it's just lucky I was staring at the reflections in your eyes,
you're a mirror to the soulless, did you know that?,
revealing what's behind my back, but when you scream I know I'm safe,
because that means it's you who's being attacked
and I've lost it, but I'm still typing, so I must be lying, that's the fact of the matter,
but that doesn't matter, you point this out and it becomes a matter of matter,
and no fact gets heard amidst all of that,
misinterpreted thoughts we were taught are spewing as opinions
from the egotistical and the bored, better yet the board
which confront the situation with a conference,
each too confident for the other to be ignored, inevitably they find their compromise,
so everyone thinks it's flawed, but that's the decision,
set in stone or signed on a note, pass me a lighter before you show me who to consult,
we all have our issues, you see the girl who sells the big issue?,
she looks like a hippie, waiting for Joe to shoot her with his gun,
but there is no Jimi Hendrix and she she's never been to Woodstock,
she only knows that pavement slab she chose to be her spot, outside the shop
go in and look up to look down, top shelf reflex, porn adorned
as soon as you're through the door, don't talk, walk,
hooded inside to hide from strip light's, whiskey and fags the usual purchase,
opaque bag insisted, I've got pocket's if you missed it,
I'm planning on drinking the moment I'm back in the street,
I still greet you with the usual pleasantries, essentially,
walk past in a trance no glance, listening to myself breathe,
trying to shut out the sounds of those around me, people speak,
you heard of conspiracy?
it's not paranoia, psychotic, possibly, toxic-psychosis combined with violent fantasy's
maybe breeding some sort of hysterical delusion to fall as blossom
from the cherry trees, in the corner of my minds eye,
of no importance by the time I'm back and stumbling through my door,
empty corridor catching my fall, tearing the torn wallpaper from the wall,
find the mattress and lay beneath the fire hazard of a foam tile ceiling,
cheap and peeling, smoke hovering in the room before I can even see the nicotine,
toes bleeding, gripper rods exposed, is this the end of the road,
no, this is my home, sleeping throughout the sun's exposure,
pale as when bloodless
awakening to appreciate the soft light of stars and the glow of distant insomniacs,
and may the sky remain reflected forever more,
staring for hours willing myself to remain conscious
for a living painting without it's curtains, well I'm not working
sat alone, jerking, over the sticky keyboard of another pervert
shared screens, disease came through the syringe, we binge on bins,
Lego bricks and broken bottles, watch your feet children the adults are playing
and we're saying it's time for bed, but can we ever sleep,
I swear this week I didn't get a peep but why lay there
trying when you can't dream, a little bow still makes a fitting noose,
and sheep are counted for slaughter, sit there crying while you scream
an obscene scene for colder hearts which learned to repress on cue
Whatever is left to prove, a man who cares for nothing
my pride is somewhere on this floor, a stain from years ago
carpets soaked in blood, what good comes from what you fail to have understood
nothing should, but really what would, another experience earned
is always another lesson learned, you get what you deserve
and if it gets on your nerves it's only you who can take the blame,
no one's going to share your shame in the same way no one feels your pain,
are you fishing for comfort from people who hide there smiles,
with laugh lines forced into frowns and gleaming eyes which try to mimic tears,
groped before you're embraced, what love was in the room is quick to grow old
and nothing warms a cold heart, because nothing changes a frozen mind,
how do you expect to close the eyes of those who can't help but observe life,
can you sew up the lips of the silent, or restrain the violent,
straps round the wrists of the suicidal, nooses round the neck of fetishists
and those giving up on survival, sex and death with no regret
that's a dream to inspire the hideous masses which conspire within a crowd
which choose to sit anonymous, and stay at rock bottom,
traversing the lanes and alleyway's, guides into the darker nights,
drugs, sex and alcohol fuelled muggings, it doesn't matter what's honourable
if you fuck up, you don't sit with your head between your legs and beg,
you don't kick and punch more than one guy, it's not about the bigger fist,
that's for those good kids who still respect life, we're down here for excitement,
carry a blade for the situation and remember to abuse it,
instinct should dictate fight or flight, but you're backed into a corner
so lash out at the face before you even see it's skin,
step back for the reaction, nothing happens, carry on,
if that's not the case, carry on,
flesh tears quick and people soon learn when they're sticking to their clothes,
hoodie soaked through, fat exposed,
but play safe and you'll enjoy colder nights on your own,
no one bothers me, and I don't bother them,
friend is but a title, they all have names, most are better off forgotten,
have you walked the streets at 3:00 am and traced the death of lamp light,
terminal jazz forced into my mind to keep me waltzing through the frost,
I stopped beside the sea to stare at the reflections of Christmas lights
in the half soaked sand stretched out beneath me,
and wondered if I were to bury my head here, would I ever be able to look back up again
But the sun's already rising, it's a new day tomorrow
heading home, to find a girl I shouldn't know, laying on the bed,
glancing angrily at me, long day? where have you been?,
needed for this, that and such and such,
but already it should be clear, lately I've been thinking too much,
probably why I'm drinking so much
For every cap I'm taking off, I push another button,
grab the shottie and build another gun, a bullet full of tobacco,
case cased in weed, a stanley blade to spread the load, two stabs to cover the hole,
puff, light, blow the smokes rising and the bullet glows,
you're looking at me but staying quiet, I'm seeing hate in your eyes,
blood boiling, you're hot headed
so why the fuck are you standing there with those cold feet,
your mouths trembling like our eyelids while we dream,
so is this your nightmare? why won't you speak? have I chilled you in place?
you think this is end of you're road,
no one gets that far,
stay put while I head to the end of my street,
need another dealer to deal me drugs for the week,
corner shop spot, go in to talk a lot about not much,
the point being whether the deals on point,
we stare at scales trying to tip the balance in our favour,
weigh up the price tag, ripped black bags, wrapping up, end of favour,
the number in the wall just got a little lower, but at least the wallet has an extra gram.
take it home, opened like my trusty pocket locket,
a tin full of coping strategy, my strategy is to smoke until I stop this,
pacing around in circles with the thoughts
which hover in my head like the smoke in this room,
terrified of what I might find in the darker corners of the mind,
you ever see the story's of the non-authors in the drawers where they really hide,
no lies, no compromise, no poetic justification for the things that they write,
I'd prefer to stare at their lines than search the spaces between yours.
the blank spots I missed, is that your get out clause for when things don't make sense?
read it again? don't pretend I missed the pre-text, no offence
but speaking in a pre-tense, I should have closed the book, before I read a page,
just listened to your words to read the blurb and turned my back to walk away,
but I didn't I stayed, and we just had another near violent argument in silence,
stood before me with a knife while crying, nothing needs to be said,
tip against my chest, deep breath, one step, try for two,
knife drops, no blood, big mess, turn my back, walk away,
head up the stairs, open the book and write a page,
trying to block out your words, but getting another verse,
phone rings, thrown away, can't stop it, door knocking, not today,
I'm never too lucky so trust me to lock it with the key I thought I had in my pocket,
must have lost it, that would cost me, but you can't take something from nothing,
who really has nothing, we're all something,
that's why I'm not answering the tapping at the door
and all your banging is going ignored,
and the grams getting lower while I'm staring at the wall,
smoking what I bought too quick, not sick, not high,
passing time while the balance is in your favour, weighing me down
while I try to make you look up, but I don't think you ever see the clouds,
so what's the point in trying to show you the silver linings,
I give up long before you shut up,
I'm shutting down wondering when you'll get switched off,
trying to listen to some music, clear my thoughts by drowning them with brighter sounds,
but you're still going and it seems like you just found the off switch,
you stopped it to start it, drop the bass and take too much,
drop the heart, and skip a beat for the bits you miss,
drug lust and false love, but we still made our memories from mad nights,
under lamp lights, shared blood for addiction,
passing out on an open road, after passing another junction on another street,
teen daze, when we didn't have to speak much about a lot,
but not everything changed. remember when you O.D'd,
was life a dream when you lay there murmuring,
eyelids trembling in synch with your lips, nostrils flaring, cold feet, cold head,
everything sweating, no life in your eyes,
dying in the moonlight, convulsing in the rain,
Laying at the side of the curb, tears on tarmac
staring at a soaked paper plane, dreaming of being anywhere else
I shouldn't have left you on your back and walked on by as you slipped away.