The Terrible Tale of Turbulent Times

I'll never know why I'm sitting alone,
alone on a night like this.
Neon fills the air of my nightspot 'home',
but I'm in my room getting pissed.

Bass beats the walls of my 'refuge' to death,
but I'm lying fully-clothed on my un-made bed.
There's a bottle of So-Co tinting my breath,
There's a thousand thoughts in my man-made head.

And nine-hundred and ninety-nine are always you.
Only one is a glance at things I used to do,
at the bottom of my bottle is a second look. 
And tomorrow morning is the chance I never took,
it's a day that I can't sleep away.

Telling the terrible tale of my turbulent times,
in the form of words with simplistic rhymes.
Pouring my heart out on to a page,
when I should be repenting for a darker age.
Nine-hundred and ninety-nine thoughts on the wall.
You are one, and you are all.

Morning's here, with kisses sweet,
I'm out of bed and on my feet.
I'll brush my teeth and wash my face,
and in no time I'll leave this place.
I'm not so alone, at least not today.
Because this is a day I can't sleep away.