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Your eyes are glazed As if you're already dead. I'm afraid that the bottle Has finally gotten to your head. You sit in your own filth, And you don't even care. Have you given up? You don't even brush your hair. I wish things could go back To how they used to be. Seeing you like this Really eats away at me. You swear that you're fine, But your health is breaking down. You're stuick in that bottle, You're beginning to drown. Let me help you back up, Give me your hand... Tell me what's wrong, I'll try to understand.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

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