he's drinking alone again and man he's always thinking of a way to change
man something's got to change
it's truckin' on midnight and I sit...I sit right off sixth street
drawing new lines...new lines to cross
loneliness breaks complete silence, as terror runs down his spine
the feelings all to familiar, he's built more faith in the rope around his neck than he holds in her
and the only reason he stands cold sweat upon that chair is to give you, to give you one last chance
the flowers are dead and, I'm slowly slipping
a useless charm is broken and solitude soars
when we...when we...have no longer to live...these sliced wrists...hurt less than this
wounded heart...this heart, is killing me
and when life is not suffice, dying amends
and he will never be your partner
because he will have killed himself by the time you come...come around
(I will have killed myself)