I sip spirits, attempting to lift mine;
- even still: you see that I am not fine.

It seems like you have been distant with me;
- I've been feeling this way, all o' this week.

It seems: the last thing on your mind is me;
- it has been tearing up my heart, you see?
It has been breaking 'part my thoughts & brain;
- from on my cheeks, falls down a constant rain.

I find a cigar in my lips and teeth
- and, again, begin to hate the man seen,
- staring back at me from, in the mirror;
- my future and wellbeing are unclear.