The night, she consumes me, leaving nothing left,
I am not returning home tonight, I am being kept,
surely not against my will, it's wonderful out here,
she speaks in a tone: soft, direct, sincere.
You exhumed me, and tied me to a post,
the things we love will hurt us the most,
still you are my drug, showing me things I fail to see,
but like any drug, you will be the death of me.
Rage runs through me, I deem you my everything,
from the stroke of my pen, to the songs I sing,
from the words I write, to the reason I breathe,
you are an anchor for my sanity...
Pain subdues me, leaving me helpless inside,
I'm aware of what it takes to swallow my pride,
so here I am, against this post with arms tied,
you bought the ticket, either Burn It, Or Take The Ride.