Building a drunked voice

Building sadness
My voice is empty, far cry and hoax
There is not sweet perfume around here
Here is a state of solitude
Everything is the same old fart
A hobo merciless of bastard's heart
Glass broken my wind, wind down
Mind sold for a plate of tears and beans
Shaving hand of female beast I hope
Kissing my neck when I'll drunk at this chair
Steel, cold breeze, tender wood of axe.
Cracked sordid lift. Two walls beside to jump.