How many shots will it take to feel comfort?
1, 2, 3, 4?
How many shots will it take until the pain is gone?
5, 6, 7, 8?
How many shots will it take to get away from these thoughts?
9, 10, 11, 12?
Have I reached my limits?
Or will it take more until I am content?
Forget the glass, it's taking too long.
I'm ready to forget.
Even if only for a few seconds, minutes, or hours.
This feeling of disconect from the world is all that really matters.
No longer worried about the problems of yesterday.
But as it wears off, the anxiety of tomorrow begins.
I can't deal.
I won't deal.
I refuse to deal.
Let's start the count over.
1, 2, 3,....4....5..6, 7....8, 9....10......................
I've found my last bit of comfort.
The final drop of what I wish life could be.
Tonight I've found comfort at the bottom,
The bottom of this bottle I hold tightly to my lips.
But where will I find comfort tomorrow?