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The Ballad (of twenty-four hours)
Nineteen years sitting at the corner of the bed
Where liquor fills the lungs until the day
Her heart learns to explode all on its own
When twenty four hours is just another day to waste
Not much time to wait till tomorrow
Oh how boredom lies
Inside the confusion of a lost mind, where she learns to disguise
All the past and current problems that she finds
When there’s nowhere to hide
When there’s no one to lose herself inside
Razor blade, what a cliche, tore from wrist to toe
The only way to let go when she knows she can’t go
Another day of misusing all those pills she’ll blackout
With chills she’ll say “all the stares…yet nobody cares”
Little does she know how much we care…
