So what,
If I buy broccoli ambitiously,
Thinking I might take the healthy route.
It's sitting in the fridge,
From God know's when,
And I'm not about to dig into that mess.

Is that a metaphor for life?
Probably.

Calories, fuck them.
Ingest them beer by beer, if I may...
I'd rather smoke a hundred cigarettes
And talk until my voice is ripped apart
Than waste a simple day.

What is this mess I'm writing?
Well, you have the beer,
And the cigarettes,
And a lack of broccoli, of course,
And a low caloric intake,
So it's probably just drunken banter.

Figures.