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Nightly,
She holds the bottle tightly
And drinks away her life
Thinking I don’t want to be like me.
She drinks until she thinks she might be
Somebody else,
Or at least the pain eased slightly.
And even if she wanted to,
She couldn’t tell you what is wrong
Because nothing’s wrong
She’s just not strong
Enough to walk the path she chose to walk on.
And when advice isn’t there
It’s the bottle that’ll help her along
And give her strength
When her heart is too weak to be strong.
You think she’s happy
Cause she laughs when she holds it.
Mistaken happiness
But she escapes it all for a moment.
You like the fun her
So you hang out when she’s drunk
Get her drunker
Take her home or take her number
And then do it all again
Until you’ve done her
Or  you’re done with her
With no intentions of ever loving her.
The fun is done you’re sure
And the girl who cries at night
Isn’t as fun as her.
Over time she doesn’t cry.
It doesn’t do her any good it's like
A drug which no longer gets her high.
So she drinks to suppress the pain that’s left
And drown the sorrows of depression 
Deep inside.
The tears that surface make her weaker
So she keeps drinking
And digs the well a little deeper.
Who would dive so deep
Just to see her?
So they only see the surface,
Damaged goods
Who would keep her?
So you buy another drink
Then you screw her and you leave her.
We’ve seen her
Standing with a man
Bottle in hand
We didn’t save her either.

Dec. 14, 2006

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