Shotgunning in the ally behind a seedy bar, sneak in the back door like under the radar

The ******* my mind, is not it the lady before me. I see the man in the mirror, but cant say that I agree.
She delivered her hit, a cold, cut blow. My knees gave way and my sight turned snow, my back hit the stall and I slid to the floor, wiped the blood from my nose and tried to stand once more.
  
I dust myself off and headed back to the bar, hoping no one would notice that I've fallen so far. I force a half smile, and say that all is well. Cause I cant just say "Hi, I'm living in Hell."  Or that I'm an empty shell, and Maybe yeah I'm my biggest problem, but who's to tell.

I want to go out, but I know I cant play. Cause no one ever gives me the ******* time of day.

So I try to forget it, if just for a while; the pain that comes out when I remember your style, your eyes your voice and the way you smile...

**** it! I don't mean to ***** but I'm still in my head. Control my emotions? Yeah, not till I'm dead.