Yes, I'm an angel, for sure.
Tomorrow is my best and most hated friend.
I pull all the shades shut in the hopes that if no light comes in perhaps the day has passed and this is all a mere dream.
Alcohol is the cause of most of the problems in my life, yet it remains the only solution.
And I don’t even wipe away the tears, I wear their dirty stains on my face like the most expensive makeup, because I can barely feel the butterflies anymore.
Because maybe if I ruin this body enough, you won’t want it anymore.
It’s the absence of feeling, yet apathy doesn’t describe it.
Nothing hurts when nothing is real.
Strung out on cheap alcohol and fancy cigarettes.
Soon I’ll be nothing more than the faint trace of nicotine upon your lips, the ever present wound that never fades and the dirty habit you promise to yourself to break each and every day.
Because every little girl was supposed to be a princess, and every little boy a prince, but things don’t always turn out the way they’re supposed to.
And she’s standing beneath the cherry blossoms & the wind is blowing & her dress is twirling & her hands are waving & she’s biting her lip & the petals are falling faster & her dress is rising higher & its at her knee now & its at her thigh now & the petals are swirling faster & her dress is rising higher & she’s dancing beneath the cherry blossoms
And I'm ready for a change.
I pull all the shades shut in the hopes that if no light comes in perhaps the day has passed and this is all a mere dream.
Alcohol is the cause of most of the problems in my life, yet it remains the only solution.
And I don’t even wipe away the tears, I wear their dirty stains on my face like the most expensive makeup, because I can barely feel the butterflies anymore.
Because maybe if I ruin this body enough, you won’t want it anymore.
It’s the absence of feeling, yet apathy doesn’t describe it.
Nothing hurts when nothing is real.
Strung out on cheap alcohol and fancy cigarettes.
Soon I’ll be nothing more than the faint trace of nicotine upon your lips, the ever present wound that never fades and the dirty habit you promise to yourself to break each and every day.
Because every little girl was supposed to be a princess, and every little boy a prince, but things don’t always turn out the way they’re supposed to.
And she’s standing beneath the cherry blossoms & the wind is blowing & her dress is twirling & her hands are waving & she’s biting her lip & the petals are falling faster & her dress is rising higher & its at her knee now & its at her thigh now & the petals are swirling faster & her dress is rising higher & she’s dancing beneath the cherry blossoms
And I'm ready for a change.