"We can't stop here. This is bat country!" Hearing a regular
Shoving good fun
In a poor Scottish accent
Aussi
In the direction of the death
Of Steve Irwin
There is reality here
And I just can't trace it
With my ears alone

Sitting over half a joint
Four beers
I ash on a baby toy
Left to the heat
Sometimes the rain
And wonder of the sacredness
Of childbirth

Of a child desperate
For stimulation of the senses
She may be an artist one day
But only stimulus will tell
Or the sixteen beers
Her father throws south nightly

Because "I didn't choose this."
The choice of life was onesided
And the role of an aunt is mysterious
There are expectations
For playing on both teams
But really only playing for one
The unexpected

Yeah, suprise you drunkard
I'm on your burnt out wife's side
When it comes to familial responsibility
And the symbolism
Behind the title of 'designated driver'
Because you're designated
To do something
Perform a task
The act
The role
The stingray hunt of all time

Of the fucking responsible one.  ¶ 1:14 AM