i wrote this on a dreary day back in dec. (note to anyone who is chronicly deppressed, do not listen to aic unplugged for 6 hours on a day when the sun stays hidden behind the clouds)
staley lane
feeling like an addict
been living in your attic
don't call it a habit
cause mother wouldn't have it
you know that we get so high
but i've been flying solo
screaming bloody murder
your gaze looks so shallow
and you refuse to follow
breathing is a chore now
i can barely swallow
the sickness is forever
praying to the needle
my will to live is feeble
his story dont hold true
so he blames the bible
searching for an answer
leads me back to where i started
now im living in an attic
but dont call it a habit
cause the father wouldn't have it
staley lane
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