sick again from drink,
failed follow throughs
and this lack of sleep
this place is haunted;
specters won't allow any rest
can we please just go now

"i'm signing my life away."
raised by the hands of a bipolar man
i still cannot understand this hand we've been dealt
sick of being sick and all of these bottle caps
always on defense and not fit enough to fight
i've gone into
i've given into this lull
i'm glad that you're ok
well i am not ok
im glad you're all okay
well this is not ok
two glasses at my bedside blur and blend
and all i need is a band-aid
yet we choose to bleed
(hold tight, breathe in
the lights will be left on good friend)
you said there was something about
feeling down that feels so right
well i'll shoot, i'll shoot tonight
never ever mastering a mark
because i know you'll never quell this spite