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Passed out pain
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Depression As I sit in the alley, the street light
shines down on broken glass
like a scene from a movie
And your words still hauntingly play through
my head so i won't forget
And i go to reach for the
bottle to nurse those old war wounds
and i pull out the box of my
old and broken dreams, like toys, when i thought
we'd get married and maybe have kids, eventually.
But the bottle is gone, and
the wounds burst until I realize
that the moisture isn't my blood but
my tears as i mourn
and reminisce how you told me
you never loved me
anyways and i wonder what her name is
as i see twenty empty bottles and i
then pass out
