He seeks a vibe, but after a bottle he kills the night. Loses respect, but more of a loss on his soul. He'll fight his flaws after he sobers up. He's destroying boundaries and he's ready to clean up. Drinking too much, a overflowing cup. Grandma I'm sorry I turned out this way. I'm do better, I'm lay low for a while. I'm a fight my drink, I don't need a glass to ponder or over think. Things will be okay. But how do I live? How do I cope? Most importantly how do I stop? I'm scared, but this needs to be done. His sobriety needs to happen. His mental health needs to let him free. Sorry for the ones I hurt, I need to fight my own battle before this bottle tosses me in dirt. Time for me to go to work. Grandma I'm sorry, I'm just lonely.