Hell In A Hangover

Tears and raindrops hit the ground in some sort
of strange perversion i no longer wanna recall.
As time makes you question trusted choices like a madman
who answers the darkness on a cold winters night.

Was it a simple fuck or a old mans soul bleeding into
a young mans thought.
the storm swirls outside a window's view to a outside fury.

No longer innocent enough to belive yet
your always bitter enough to judge.
hours swallow years like a junkeis thirst for self destruction
it looms like a cemetary unseen by thoose who would
much rather wait in blindness.
To view in agony is a bastard my friends.

And the pain cant match the relife.
In a bitter song that play in empty bar.
Why waste the air when you can sufficate the thought?

Perfume and midnight plessures soon turn to questions
you can answer in a single glance.
She thirsts forthat heart that has fragmented
yet never truley broken in twited torture of fate.
Her eye's match the rain as she's left in wait.

And how do we find arselves in that place that we choose
blind seeing it as clear as stormiy sky.
There's a special hell in a hangover.
And something's are better  left at why.

the clock marks the hour the bottle marks the frame of mind.
Like a demon within ive caught the angel only to cast her in the flames.
And spite happiness lastcall forever has left me behind.