Three Oh Nine Melancholia bursts through the door like an old friend
bottle of jager in one hand and a pack of marlboro’s in it’s pocket.
Picks me up by my lapels and shakes me back to life,
picks up my discarded left eye and places it back in it’s rightful socket
and right now my wish is to be able to sleep
without being scared to wake up on my own once more.
They say that you never really get over that first love
and I know that sometimes I feel how true that is but
i’d rather have known it and have it hurt me over and over
than never to have felt it at all.
Because chasing that feeling is a purpose at least,
it’s a goal to keep in mind as I rifle through my music collection
to find the perfect song to put me to bed.
So give me one shot and I promise i’ll go quietly up the stairs and under the covers.
Give me one drag on that cigarette and I promise to leave this alone for now.
Give me one more chorus and we’ll call it quits for tonight and I’ll head up the stairs and under the covers.
I know that this doesn’t just finish this easily, but for this morning let’s call it a draw.