| I’ll drink a lost cause with some pills and alcohol
|
| never looked so good on paper
|
| I’m the narrator, I’m not writing it down
|
| I’ll hold it in my poison and I’ll pray it doesn’t come back up
|
| I’m not a poster boy
|
| But I’m burning lives and crossing bridges
|
| to be a part of this Friday night routine
|
| and isn’t this pathetic how we lie and tell you stories for the glory
|
| we face our lives by atalizise and by the bottle
|
| I’ll drink a lost cause with some pills and alcohol
|
| never looked so good on paper
|
| I’m the narrator I’m not writing it down
|
| I’ll hold it in my poison and pray it doesn’t come back up
|
| I’m not a poster boy
|
| My reputation only goes as deep as the bottom of my pocket.
|
| and your jealous cause I love what I do and I do what I want to
|
| and isn’t this pathetic how we lie and tell you stories for the glory
|
| we live our lives in headlines action spotlights but behind the curtain
|
| I never feel so prided when I know you’re around
|
| I’ll drink a lost cause with some pills and alcohol
|
| never looked so good on paper
|
| I’m the narrator I’m not writing it down
|
| I’ll hold it in my poison and pray it doesn’t come back up
|
| I’m not a poster boy
|
| Let me describe to you a story of a boy who swallowed pills
|
| fascinated with sex and violence
|
| too young to know what he figured out
|
| that this world is full of violence insist to run him down
|
| if he can learn to trust himself
|
| only family and loving friends can ever hurt him
|
| I’ll drink a lost cause with some pills and alcohol
|
| never looked so good on paper
|
| I’m the narrator I’m not writing it down
|
| I’ll hold it in my poison and pray it doesn’t come back up
|
| I’m not a poster boy
|
| I never feel so prided when I know you’re around
|
| for a moment I feel brilliant
|
| like the coolest kids in town
|
| the world is full of violence that run him down
|
| if he learns to trust himself only family and loving friends can ever hurt him |