I’ve got beer on my dress…
I’ve got ash on my shoes and my hand is burned.
The world is spinning around and I feel sick.
Who are you?
Have you been here all along?
Are you the only witness of my decay?
Somebody killed the night, and I don’t know how.
Was it I?
I’m talking random. I’m saying things I shouldn’t never had said.
I’m walking to the edge…I’m doing things that will haunt me later.
Where am I now?
I feel like I’m lying on the floor.
I’m really lying on the floor.
They’re saying things…I can hear them…but they think I don’t…
I’ve never been so conscious before, and yet, I have no idea what I’m thinking of.
I’ve got beer on my dress…I’ve got ash on my shoes…and I think that I’ve just died…
I know what you’re thinking… “You took too much…or “you’re just too pathetic…you pretend that you’re controlling the situation but, look at you…you’re such a mess…what the hell do you want to prove? Just go ahead, drink a little bit more…maybe just another drink…we know that you can do it…we know that you want to do it…look at you…you’re such a joke! You’re ridiculous! You’re so sad that make us laugh!”
All the people around me look like horrific monsters that came to devour me alive…
Everything is blurry…
Everything seems drenched in a giant white shadow…
The reality is just a bunch of holograms…
And I don’t care…I really don’t…
Should I care…?
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