Jaws of love left long?

Ate a bad plum in Beirut,
had a panic attack in the Dallas airport,
tonight I had an idea of a plan
to be a better man,
but apparently I am unfixable.

Hating yourself takes effort
from an outside source
and my babymama adds
to the disdain of everyday
which makes everything much worse.

Met a beautiful Mexican girl
at the Auntie Anne’s,
and she joined me for my last drink
while regret enjoyed my heart
more than the start.

To whom do I owe
these tears?
Maybe life itself
or your blocked blog,
maybe modern math.

I am trying to turn
my life around,
but I still always get twisted
before the next show,
and the problems that will save me.