Cursed with a bitchin' headache.
I wish I could say, “Another day, another dollar.”
But I can’t even claim to be a white collar.
Still assed out of work, still stuck with no wheels.
In my face every motherfucker is waving their bill.
I need to pay Nick, but I’m on unemployment.
I’m sick of this life. I pray for deployment.
Now, more than ever, I’m missing my daughter.
A life as a mother - blinked twice, it was slaughtered.
I claim I’m at peace, though I weep at her death.
I’ll soon drown from the tears that fall with each breath.
If that’s not enough throw in a diabolic
Addiction I deal with as a fucked alcoholic.
For three weeks so far, I have done pretty well
To pick up the AA book, to help through this hell.
I’m a little ashamed, but a little bit proud,
To know that I claim to don this fucked shroud.
“A day at a time” - That’s not so damn easy.
And I hate that sometimes the urge overwhelms me.
So far so good, though. At least I’m still trying.
If I said it was licked, I’d only be lying.
Easily it could be set on the backburner.
But I’d only be swapping one death for another.
Another thing I admit ruthlessly haunts me
Is the fact that the one I still crave doesn’t want me.
I know when I call the torture I’m facing.
I still dial the number as my heart begins racing.
That situation I know not how to change.
I still feel as if I’ve been shot at close-range.
But I can’t even claim to be a white collar.
Still assed out of work, still stuck with no wheels.
In my face every motherfucker is waving their bill.
I need to pay Nick, but I’m on unemployment.
I’m sick of this life. I pray for deployment.
Now, more than ever, I’m missing my daughter.
A life as a mother - blinked twice, it was slaughtered.
I claim I’m at peace, though I weep at her death.
I’ll soon drown from the tears that fall with each breath.
If that’s not enough throw in a diabolic
Addiction I deal with as a fucked alcoholic.
For three weeks so far, I have done pretty well
To pick up the AA book, to help through this hell.
I’m a little ashamed, but a little bit proud,
To know that I claim to don this fucked shroud.
“A day at a time” - That’s not so damn easy.
And I hate that sometimes the urge overwhelms me.
So far so good, though. At least I’m still trying.
If I said it was licked, I’d only be lying.
Easily it could be set on the backburner.
But I’d only be swapping one death for another.
Another thing I admit ruthlessly haunts me
Is the fact that the one I still crave doesn’t want me.
I know when I call the torture I’m facing.
I still dial the number as my heart begins racing.
That situation I know not how to change.
I still feel as if I’ve been shot at close-range.