Texty: Flashlight Brown. BlindSided.

Now, somebody is out there on a streetcorner preaching about the evils of the people who are voting on the right while I'm working in a kitchen chopping parsley and lettuce and washing up the dishes till the end of the night. When i stumble down the streetcorner to buy myself a pony full of paint thinner, bourbon, a girly mag or two and blah blah blah goes the man on the corner and i'll never understand how it relates to me and you.
What do i know?
What do i care?
If i close my eyes.
I'm blindsided.
In a barroom the Tv is flashing like a fire, and warning of the future like a prophet from the past, the radio is blaring like a siren in the corner, and telling you to prepare for an all out attack, the newspaper reads like a page from the bible and tells us a tale of impending doom, but blind, deaf and dumb are we and all we really care about is who can drink the most before he goes to the bathroom.