the warmth of this small cell
a tired heart longing for rest
another glass of poison with ice
whatever you feed me i’m bound to throw up
is there any peace at the end of this day
driving around looking for a light still on
make these old words sound new
you need more than what i’ve got
no cause for alarm says the broken hero
can you see past the dark part of a soul
there is no substitute for this
while i was drinking you grew up
this time it will be different
weak coffee and dried out biscuits
a torn nametag reads “ben” for short
can you learn something from saving me
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment