Description
Butterflies, soft skin
Wine and jokes, I think I’m in.
In her bed, the medicine.
Then pages on the calendar start falling by the ton
While all those tiny little bullets keep on flying off your tongue
How did we end up here?
You want to go another year?
Why oh why do we torture ourselves
And feel the need to try and fight for the ever after,
When we’re both to blame. This isn’t right.
It’s not the way. We shouldn’t fight to answer
Why oh why, if you hate me so much, why feel the need to stay?
For just one night, please, just tonight,
Don’t be a bitch. Don’t pick a fight.
My mind is sore. Turn off the light.
Losing sleep and sanity to keep you from a frown
Or from complaining so incessantly my friends don’t come around.
What are we doing here?
I’m gonna die if I’m not gone next year.
