Alive.

Help, a word commonly used when one is troubled,
But my trouble won't stop, and help isn't the word I would've used.
I think just a few more drinks, I'll be fine... I'll be fine even when I've stumbled.
I feel them at my back, laughing, God, Why are they so amused?

love... Love? well, I never new real love.
True I had her every now and again. It was just her to myself
but she.. she seemed so... so proud of,
so damn proud of herself.

And the chemicals. Yes! The depressants,
Thank God for the narcotics that filled my breath.
who knew such wonderful things could come from plants,
and... and... fuck, I can see my death.

I was drunk at the wheel, summer of 08.
They said "get a taxi", but I was out of my mind.
If they had just helped instead letting me take the wheel of fate...
It's not my fault, right? cause something tells me it is... something inside

I lay here now... alone, but alive.
I'll cling onto life, no matter what's happened.
I know... I know I should've, could've strived,
but, lets face it, we all get distracted.

So as I lie here on my bedroom floor, tears...
tears across my face and scars on my arms,
I'm confused, and I doubted you for years.
but you... you can take me from worlds reach... from the worlds harm.

Help, it's hard enough just to think I'm alive...

© 2010 The Still Air