My hands are shaking, The smile is no longer faking, Sweaty after a realization of my dark lungs, No longer caving to drown the the butterfly chained to a ball and chain in my gut, I put down the bottle and pick up my sneaks, Perspiration leaks, As I wheeze, The butterfly is set free, And I feel like for the first time i can taste the breeze, Shakey knees, And a new song to sing, Grabbing the new beat, So I take off my shoes, Step inside the fresh door, Starting again with a smirking core, With my hands that won't stop shaking, And a smile I'm no longer faking.
Putting down the bottle and putting on a new song and some basketball shorts