Unfinished

Future's a word, but it's not a real thing

As the present is now and the past once has been.

I live out of order – first present, then past,

But as it's unreal, I still put futures last.

At worst, I'll barely feel started when through,

Or at best, leave unfinished what I didn't need to do.

Who doesn't want someone to lay with, to walk with, to mend,

Or ears, hands and bodies to borrow and lend?

The catch with this lady – she asked me to bend,

To wear ruts in my life, to depend,

Not to think of how things will go after the end.

Why give a thought to arrangements or sorrows

For the sake of a theory old farts call “tomorrow?”

She said I should party like I won't pay the tab,

Like I don't need my pride or my keys or a cab.

Both the booze and the covers keep me down, keep me warm,

Though I need to pee more than I need to perform.

and if neither are satisfied, I guess that's alright.

'Cause I won't have to think of it after tonight.

Coach told a man lives life on the attack,

To sacrifice, gamble, to hold nothing back,

To play as if there is no tomorrow,

Because there isn't, as far as I know.

Right now is as far as my knees let me go.

That was good advice once, nine years ago.

Today, it's just who I am.