I’d love to stop talking about myself
but I’m too big of a wretch not to
Another night sucked into the tubes
Wondering where the years got to
Another night fighting to fight the good fight
another round of begging please please more light
it’s easier to believe we all are doomed
but is it really better?
I know my sure love would tell me
to hang in there baby if I would let her
I shouldn’t let the bastards get me down
but it’s hard when you’re such a wretch
And maybe tomorrow I’ll surprise myself
but five before the witching hour it seems a stretch
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