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Counterpunch
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Bruises
I see the edge and I'm getting closer
The stitches aren't holding the seams
I'm hitting bottom but sinking further
White picket death machines
I'm done feeling sorry
Headed south on a broken wing
This shoulder's getting colder
Broken bottles and broken dreams
Can't wake up from this nightmare
This guilt is killing me
What's to become of us?
What's to become of me?
Light a match and walk away.
There's nothing left here so why stay?
This place is dead to me
Life lived how could we stop it
Love lost on empty pockets
Pointing fingers in the wrong way
Captivated by the thought of sinking in
Eyes hung from hollow sockets
Bloodshot and out of solace
Keep calm and carry on
Pretend there's nothing wrong
Let's keep this clandestine
I know just what we need
Pack up these memories with a full frontal lobotomy
It's not what you knew it's what you can prove
I walk these streets with the diseased
The ghosts of who we are; the ones we'll never be
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I wear these scars like antiseptic for my heart
These bruises will lose color
They're not who you are
Can't wake up from this nightmare
This guilt is killing me
What's to become of us?
What's to become of me?
Light a match and walk away
There's nothing left here so why stay?
This place is dead to me
I walk these streets with the diseased
The ghosts of who we are; the ones we'll never be
I wear these scars like antiseptic for my heart
These bruises will lose color
They're not who you are
We felt the bottom drop as we stood and watched
View from a window looking straight across
Static silence drowning out the noise
This is the eulogy
We had a little hope 'till it was lost
Life lived, love lost on a boulevard
Yes this is the eulogy of your friends and family
I walk these streets with the diseased
The ghosts of who we are; the ones we'll never be
I wear these scars like antiseptic for my heart
These bruises will lose color
They're not who you are
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