apple juice

You beat the shit out of a kid
A little kid
The kid has cartoons on his shirt
Just a good old 1800 beating
There is snot everywhere
Its disgusting
There was nothing on tv that night
And you didn’t just want to sit in your room and cry
So you beat this kid, while saying the names of celebrates
You ask him if he thinks you’re happy?
“Maybe”
“Maybe, you’re a kid be honest, yes or no?”
“maybe”
You pull out a gun
“There is no maybe in this world; you see those building there mine.”
It’s true you own every building in the city
And have a tv in each room
The kids begin to open his mouth
And it’s strikes you have been living the wrong life
There are no, yes’s and no’s just maybe’s
you becomes a game show hosts and grave digger
and the kid becomes a priest and drunk clown
you watch the ocean on TV