Friday, July 16, 2010

Faceless.


A good man doesn't drink
And I've been drinking alone
So what does that make me?

My hands they always shake
And no one's calling my phone
So what does that make me?

And I know the kid with his guitar
So drunk and anxious
Has been done to death
But tell me what hasn't
I'll try it




Because I'm selfish enough
To wanna get better
But I'm backwards enough
Not to take any steps to get there

And when you realize it's a pattern
And not a phase
It's what you've become
And it's what you will stay
That's ballgame






Cause I don't got room in my life
For anyone else
And I've driven away all the
People that could help
And I still don't even know what I
Need to do to fix myself








And there's a clamp around my chest
It tightens every time I lapse into
Another sorry story
About my miserable collapse
A bronze box I keep encased in glass
And dust off whenever I want your pity







Well, either way, I realize that my shit's
About as small as it could be
But that makes me feel worse for even feeling
This bad in the first place
And that makes me sad
Really, really fucking sad

And then I'll drink
Those thoughts away
I've gotten good at that

Cause when you realize it's a pattern
And not a phase
It's what you've become
And it's what you will stay
That's ballgame



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