Mistakes, ones not of their own, that taunt them to this day.
Some sips down the throat and those visions grow bearable, blurry.
Times have changed them, times have changed me.
Rips in their only pants, holes in their hammy down shirts.
Broken soles on the shoes they've had for years,
substance in their systems for longer than that.
Terrors in their heads, worry keeping em up in their bed.
Feeling lonely and empty, empty handed and still giving.
Unsure if their life is even worth living.
Things are harder than they seem, can you blame them? Can you blame me?
A stooge off the side of the road, from the place they decided to roam.
A broken lighter in a pocket, in the other- what no one knows.
Their bruised skin rapidly wearing thin, their eyes caving in.
A life no one chooses but is shown,
one you only venture into when you end up alone.
Left with the invading thoughts,
doing things they've never forgot.
You can't relate until you see, you can't blame them, you can't blame me.