No Medication - Cousteau

Patience, hasty

You’ll race off the taste

Of these precious times

A scattered thing

Won’t pay you no mind

Tell me, slowly

They were the reasons

That was the war

The kind of hurt

Don’t hurt you no more

'Cause it’s easy

You’re leaving no feeling

Just remnants of revealing

Fragments of the truth

And it’s alright

If it’s all run by crazies

There’s small consolation

There’s no medication

For all of your blues…

Hungry, thirstin'

At a table that’s bursting

A privileged haul

Impressive things

Don’t take you no more

Loaded, shipwrecked

A cigarette, delicate

Like a lighted fuse

A sullen thing

A furious ruse