There is more to life then a empty glass,
More to the weekend then chasen good times and lovers lips,
More to me then you.
Everyday is the end of the world,
And The bottem of the glass offers no clues.
Every time you leave me a little less,
But i still come back for more of the same,
So who is to blame?
Whos name is on my biten lips tonight?
And I'm sure you heard it all before and more or less the same.
But I cant help think too much of too little.
Its driven me mad were are you?
A heavy head is but a drowning weight.
A brainstorm of a nothing more then a broken rose,
And I still come back for more.
But tonight i fear I cant even see past the door,
There is a world outside but not for the likes of i.
I am lost,
and sadly as much as I wish you would,
you wont find me at the bottem of this empty glass.