it's been 8 years and I could tell you less about where I've been since than I could about where we were then
I've never watched the night expire like we did that time
laying together in my pieced together bed, I felt such peace in my mind
the drunks, the drugs, the smell of cigarettes and the evidence of them all left on the rug
burnt, stained and smelling of the easy girls' shame but that's got nothing to do with us
everythings so alive but we're in the backroom
yes, I am faded but never so focused on you
and I hate it
I'd explain it but I hate to sound weak
**** it, I am weak and I wish you were mine to keep
but soon youll be someone else's misses and I'll never be your mister

So, who do I tell now?
I refuse to keep bringing you down
I suppose I'll keep choking this poor pen for comfort
at this rate it'll run dry quicker than I did
quicker than my eyes could
I guess this is my ****** up way of saying enjoy your beautiful life
i'll see you when I whisper "goodnight", every night on my way to being your guy