Calorie counting blackberries.
Tapping your nails to my favorite song.
The chorus repeats on and on.
She won’t listen to your band, she won’t get a tattoo from you.
I was working in the old folks home.
Smelled like weed and bleach at anytime.
We lived by the Sunoco on Wayne.
pounding beers and drowning pain.
We were always depressed with sunken eyes.
Shots of Jameson for every sigh.
I’d overdose on heroin.
She’d through me a cocaine party.
all of this, I can remember, hardly.
She never loved me, she just wanted somebody.
locked behind a cellar door leads a basement rotting to the core.
Faint whispers of what’s happened before.
Broken door and busted frame.
When it was all over, that gothic princess was the one to blame.
Sitting on the rooftop,
wishing that the world would stop.
Its hard to remember all the fucked situations.
Like my eyes shut tight in masturbation.
There was a wasp trapped in the cabinet underneath a mason jar.
I only miss you when they kick me out of our bar.
You might be my favorite purple scar.