Absynthe Minded

Jean-baptiste Is The Howling Wolf

Is it the people, is it the place

Is it this athmosphere that makes me fade

Away in circles I lose my head

It all is such a bore I can't accept no more

Of that bullshit them people say to me

I am a cynic what is there left to be

There is no future and even if there's one im weak

A letter all complaints this is my fame

I am a wonder theres no restraint

I paid for everything I have and by mistake

I once got me a guitar I played it ever since

It's no big deal it's just the feelings real

Yall got problems

Yall are wrong

Yall make mistakes

And stroll behind along

You're all frustrated

That your life has gone wrong

Say: what am I - I am a clown who's forcing to smile

Am I unhappy is there a reason to be

Is there something I should have or own in there please

Cause if there was I'd buy it guaranteed

Theres nothing really worth it not for me

It's a chain-reaction every single day

A simple distraction that got delayed

There is no future in what I keep