Once again I'm staring at the wall
the only piece of you I have left.  

It hurts to remember you
but it's something I have to do.  

The pain feeds my darker impulses
and lets me know who I am.  

I wish it wasn't like this
but wishing counts for not.  

The only thing I can do
is use this pain to move on.  

Through whiskey soaked nights
and wistful days

I remember
who we were
who we are
and who I wished we were.