Hayden

You ask me what's new, never one to help the poor, your stuff arrives on cue, did you ever say please, divined by any whore, never a sense of ease, always ahead of the queue, exploding into bedrooms, you'd bust any curfew, bad guys on the street, a foil for your cause, let you hear the screams, it pulls your life askew, hacking out your chores, sweating on the latest news, they know where you've been, all your furious tours, whose turn now to bleed, you never were my glue, dancing on some crowded floor, your head full of ruin, tilting at my door.