I consider myself lucky for quitting drinking.
She's got strong luck and a mind of absence
constantly telling her what to do.
My will is strong, but, her perfume is stronger
so i layered all my insecurities on the butcher's table,
on her crazy crazy heart,
and this obscene scene can see no rivals.
When it's party time there's no stop sign
There's a tear on her face and a phrase tattooed on her right hand,
surrounded by veins mapping my slow comeback
the word says" i have me to offer".
I consider myself lucky for quitting drinking
i'm not jealous at all of post party tattoos
or what they call the morning after blues.
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i'm with you. like all the way
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