It's just a broken bottle of wine and a ghetto cigarette

[walkinbackstage]

It pulls at my heart strings,
Another dandelion to pluck in the sun,
Give it to a friend,
And your frightened by the shun,

Just wasn't good enough,
You thought it was so nice,
Couldn't help but notice,
how deeply grows her vice.

Draw your heart on a paper,
Hang it on the refrigerator to dry,
How the colors all bled into eachother,
Bids brown eyes to cry.

And that one-moment smile
shown brightly on her face.
Those feelings spilled for him,
she could never replace.