I am little more than a troubled mind In a shaking head locked in a room With a bottle of jack throwing punches Reminiscent of meaningful conversation All I've got is time and drinking problem to kill it Trivial notion of a glass half full, got a sour taste fill it Death's coming but I'm sick waiting No peace because I'm busy hating Nine lives, a million second chances and trail of hearts and failed romances I'm watching the smoke dance around my room I'm fading to nothing before noon You would've thought I'd be full of love I had the world at my feet but I fucked it all up