pretend radness...

responsible adulthood.
i still hate it.
remember being broke?
yeah.
remember being broke and not caring?
that was something.
y'know the line:
i may live poorly, but at least i don't have to work to do it.
where did all those old sentiments disappear to?
i used to trade tattoos for diapers, ninjas.
that's my word.
and when i had a couple of bucks,
i made sure to spend 'em quicker than i made 'em.
these days,
all my duders out there work hard for the money.
and have savings, too.
not always in accounts an' that.
i'm sure there's still a healthy punk rock distrust in some of y'all.
i'm talking about buried shoeboxes,
hidden envelopes,
false-bottom cabinets,
and all those other sweet stash spots for your loot.
but still....
most of my main dudes work too much.
no jokes.
and i'm just sayin';
a grand don't come for free,
i get it, i got it, i feel you...
but all of this getting old isn't that dope.
don't get me wrong, neighbors-
i am sure we're all grateful for all the radness
that comes with rewards for responsible behavior,
i just want something for nothing.
that's all.
freebies, ninjas.
some extra scooples an' that.
everything else is just a tug and cuddle;
never quiet, never soft.....