Glass half full don't mean **** when you're drinking
It's half a glass of numbing agent that eases the pain of your leaving
I think I've knocked back hundreds of those memories, ever fleeting
I'll leave the bar, glass on the counter, empty and always waiting

reality breaks you like glass in an accident
memories spread along the pavement
wishing that this was permanent
but guess I was just negligent
so here comes the descent
all those years unspent
spiraling, torment
heart absent
silent

The dim lights burnt their place in my memory, like the black coffee that I spilled onto me. This café seemed to change, new owners, same ****** taste. Maybe that describes me?
I swear I changed, but I'm still the same. Maybe that's why you didn't stay? The thought haunts me, but the stain on my shirt tells me I should leave, pay my tab, and find a taxi, but I haven't changed. I'm a creature of routine, praying about a memory that won't come back to life.