******, why have I forsaken You? What have I done?
I want to find my heart at the barrel of a gun.

I look for some happiness, but I need someone to hurt.
I wear this all over my sleeve. Hell it's the whole ******* shirt.

I find refuge in the parties. In the brothers and the *****.
It distracts me from the pain. Makes me think I didn't lose.

I find that happiness at the bottom of every bottle.
And that's certainly better than at the necks I want to throttle.

I'm almost afraid of being an alcoholic. But at least I'm still alive?
Am I alive? Really? Or just a broken husk? I definitely cannot thrive.

Thrive in this world of pain, hunger, and loss. Win what isn't there.
Hope, love, happiness, fulfillment. I'd look, but I don't know where.

Happiness at the bottom of the bottle, but at least I'm still here.
I don't even care if I fall in head first. At least I won't feel fear.