and here we are, at it again. like a moth to the flame, an alcoholic to the bottle, a gypsy to the road. the trivial pursuit is the only sojourn i can stomach. i want freedom, justice, compassion. but i don't. because for breakfast i eat the scraps of last nights regrets, the stale anxieties of following minutes. i pursue infinity, like a dog chasing his tail. i become so exhausted barricading selfishly from the people who love me. it's easier to please myself with a drink than it is to please you with my love. i've been here before we met. this selfishness only cultures in solitude. warm climates. then chilled to slightly below room temperature. fermented for a year. my passion has been diluted since we last spoke. what else is new? you're only as satisfying as the comfort you provide.
drink up, baby, stay up all night
the things you could do, you won't but you might
the potential you'll be, that you'll never see
the promises you'll only make
drink up with me now and forget all about the pressure of days
do what I say and I'll make you okay and drive them away
the images stuck in your head
people you've been before that you don't want around anymore
that push and shove and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still
drink up, baby, look at the stars
I'll kiss you again between the bars where I'm seeing you
there with your hands in the air, waiting to finally be caught
drink up one more time and I'll make you mine
keep you apart deep in my heart separate from the rest
where I like you the best and keep the things you forgot
the people you've been before that you don't want around anymore
that push and shove and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still
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