mostly, i sleep it off.
it's easier in the morning to
shrug off the evening's drunken,
pathetic pleas. cause the night's
tragic rambling is the next
day's apology. so if you can sit tight
'til the sun hits the blinds
we can settle everything.

turning on a dime...i just can't
trust my instincts. one day my
heart beats with passion, the next
it waxes black. if i seem a
little callous, i assure you it's
just a scratch. so if you can
hold on 'til the mood swings are
gone then we might just have a chance.

baby, i quit, i just can't fake
it anymore. i'm a cold, jaded,
selfish, abusive, dysfunctional
fuck up. i'm needing to be rescued.
i'm stranded on myself. and i can't
escape from this island i've made.
i'm afraid i never will.