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My friend, |
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You're always the last one to leave those dimly lit rooms |
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Making sure the last glass makes it's way to the table empty |
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And every bottle in the place has been upside down |
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At least a few times |
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What a waste |
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Is this what's left of you these days? |
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You're not 18 anymore |
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5 years should have been enough time |
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For you to grow up and get over this |
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It's not too cool |
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To be throwing up all morning |
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Sick from what you might have done or done it with |
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I swear, |
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If I could take your pain and frame it and hang it on my wall |
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Maybe you would never have to hurt at all |
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I'm painting pictures in red and blue |
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A portrait bruised just like you |
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And now you're walking away |
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You're not 18 anymore |
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5 years should have been enough time |
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For you to grow up and get over this |
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It's not too cool |
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To be throwing up all morning |
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Sick from what you might have done |
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When is enough finally enough? |
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All the hang-ups and heartbreaks get you past. |
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All failures and bad breaks |
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Just accept yourself |
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Find something that brings you closer to complete |
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Painting pictures in red and blue |
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A portrait bruised just like you |
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And now you're walking away |
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You're not 18 anymore |
|
5 years should have been enough time |
|
For you to grow up and get over this |
|
It's not too cool |
|
To be throwing up all morning |
|
Sick from what you might have done or done it with |
|
When is enough finally enough? |
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When is enough finally enough? |
