i'll be 23 at a liquor store on my way to a party
the boy who i'm with will think my name is sorry
maybe the cuts will be scars by then
but that doesn't mean i'll be better
i still won't know how to be sober
i'll be in a stranger's bathroom
crying my eyes out,
they'll think it's just the shrooms
but it'll be you, it'll always
be you
i'll talk about the boy who didn't love me back
even with *** and alcohol in the equation.
maybe i'll be okay then,
but it'll never hurt less