I've been blackmailed by the thorns of frustration, stitching in the red, lustful lips of desperation.
And I've been let down by the smile that used to break down every wall. Too wasted, too bored, too anxious, too cold.
Getting pissed in fucking bars, stabbing every open heart, in search for meaning at the bottom of these bottles, in search for something that could keep me alive.
So is there something that's worth more than a bitter smile? A place to rest your headached head?
I can no longer stand this ground.
I'm wasted, I'm bored, I'm anxious, I'm cold.