Another night out and I'm drinking alone, cause no one would join or even answer their phone.
I'll say I had a great time, but I'm The Pretender.
The high point of my night was a shot with the Bar Tender.
With Cig in my left hand, beer in my right, I sit at the bar contemplating my life.
Was it the wrong day of the wrong week? Did I use the wrong method with the wrong technique; choose wrong mix with the wrong speak?
Ignoring the scars by my open wounds, I swear I'll learn my lesson soon.
No matter the lines, You've proven my Fear: You only see reasons why You Can't be here.