Laying out here on the steps of a place I can't pronounce
The voices of the night became my playlist
As I adjusted to this new couch
I can still smell her perfume, and her lipstick lips on my neck
This was the fifth night this week I tried to feel alive but not even her hands could fix me
As I made my way out of that shady place bullets laced with anger and foolishness shot right though me
I stumbled down the steps then fell my face pointing toward the moon
I reached in my pocket for my cigarette, lighting it as my blood decorated the stairs red
Things seemed clearer now even though my eyes were blurry
I felt a weight lifted off me as if being shot were the keys to my chains
Then the rain came it was gentle and without warning
The cigarette dropped from my mouth and breathing became harder
I never did anything great in my life
I wasted time searching for things that would never make me happy
Close to death I tried to shape the pain and knowing that when I die it'll be like I never was here
Even if someone remembers me...
