I am little more than a troubled mind
In a shaking head locked in a room
With a bottle of Jack throwing punches
Reminiscent of meaningful conversation
All I've got is time and a drinking problem to kill it
Trivial notion of a glass half full, got a sour taste to fill it
Death's coming but I'm sick of waiting
No peace because I'm busy hating
Nine lives, a million second chances
And a trail of hearts and failed romances
I'm watching the smoke dance around my room
I'm fading to nothing before noon
You would've thought I'd be full of love
I had the world at my feet but I fucked it all up
