What is left to forget?
The searing trial of my regret
Softened its grip on my mind
With each passing glass of wine.
At fortunes mercy, alas
I'm compelled to fill my glass.
Come clairvoyant, read my palm?
To prevent the spilling of your yarn
I'll hand you a cup of ****
-My dear, what will come of this?
I'm saving your credibility
You'd be a fool not to see
That my futures tainted red,
As my kidneys slowly bled.
He at blame, he turned around
And told me that I should slow down.
Pray tell then dear, what should I do?
Live by the needle, just like you?
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 6:16 AM UTC
What is left to forget?
The searing trial of my regret
Softened its grip on my mind
With each passing glass of wine.
At fortunes mercy, alas
I'm compelled to fill my glass.
Come clairvoyant, read my palm?
To prevent the spilling of your yarn
I'll hand you a cup of ****
-My dear, what will come of this?
I'm saving your credibility
You'd be a fool not to see
That my futures tainted red,
As my kidneys slowly bled.
He at blame, he turned around
And told me that I should slow down.
Pray tell then dear, what should I do?
Live by the needle, just like you?
