Why was I so looking forward to this?
At least before, the smoke filled the emptiness.
There's no big change in being sober
Except for the fact that my frown won't turn over.
Now it seems only loneliness stayed
I can remember things better
    but who wants that anyway?
At least before I wanted to live.
I had something to live for,
    some comfort to get.
I would rather just forget my dreams
If it meant that I wouldn't always want
To rip at my seams
Till they bleed and they bleed
And I bleed no more.

Cause who really gives a **** anyway?