Fire In The Sky

"What do you mean it's too early for beer?", he said with a mischievous smile.
He looked to the sky and than said with a sneer: "I havn't had beer for a while.".

The beer failed to numb his senses, so he rolled up and sparked up a spliff.
In this still found no sympathy, so lined up and took up some sniff.

Still he was cursed to remember, still he could not forget.
He knew the end would come in December, and he could not escape the regret.

The regret of a life spent in exile, for his mind never fitted his skin.
He had worked pretty hard on his body, but the mirror still said he was thin.

What he'd give now for one cup of kindness, a someone to call a true friend.
It wasn't much fun in the silence.
In a way he was glad it would end.