The glass is almost empty, but the bottle is young. Drink till you're not thinking the thoughts you're hiding from. But they're not gone forever, they'll be back tomorrow. To wake you in the morning, to remind you that you're hollow. 'Cause you dropped your heart some time ago. Left it on the ground with the dirty clothes, and your lungs are buried in the back yard. Useless, soaked with tar. But your brain keeps wandering on. Look at you, you fucking mess. It's alright, keep on. You can't get the smell of last night out of your clothes, and you're pretty sure you've lost the feeling in one or more of your toes. And when's the last time that you washed your hair? All the people around you stop to stare. They just wanna see what misery looks like. Look at you, you fucking wreck. It's alright, keep on. I'm bleeding, feeling resttless, and out of touch. Look at you, you fucking wreck. It's alright, keep on.
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