I don't quite remember your name
But I think I'd know the face
It's from those blue green eyes
And subtle voice I can feel some grace

I don't quite remember your name
But I know the wrinkles when you smile
And it's all I can do to keep my cool
Cause I haven't felt this way in a while

What kind of a sorry ******* would want to live like that?
wants to be tied down from the age of 26
Looks forward to no spare time, and an empty pocket book
Becoming a secondary character in their own paperback story
All too meaningful fights over nothing
Searching for other affections as the years drag
Filling potholes with any kind of quickcrete complements
Sleeping on the couch and eating cold meals, mostly cereal
Finding comfort in old tv re-runs and *******
And you’ll live out the rest of your days
Finding that Sickness Unto Death
Buried with your relatives
Packed into fresh dirt

There was a comfort, all encompassing, although short lived
Having a being, sharing with a being
Not just the redeeming, pretty, thoughtful, and joyful person you are
But also the grime, the filth, the disgusting and the putrid sides of you
And despite all you will do
They will wholly accept you.

Now what kind of a sorry ******* wouldn’t want to live like that?

Spend all day drinking cause I think it’s fun
I think it’s fun
What I’ve done to me

Cause in my dreams I’m falling
Just look what I’ve done
What horrible things I have done

Spend all night thinking because I’ve lost the sun
I lost the son
Don’t wanna see me

Cause I’m my dreams I’m counting
Things that I’ve done
Horrible things I have
Done