Twist the cap off
And just drink
Away every heart
Throb and misery
Make a toast
For the fuckers who
Broke a promise
Then tried to
Apologise, how sad
They are, cough
Up a little blood, I think
I've had too much, can't
Think straight, pity
Cause the most
I'll ever lose
Won't topple this
Bottle in my hand
But I'm completely
And utterly
Soberly, drunk
Studio B
- Mark
- When you need to wake up in the morning, and set the right mood for the day, when you need to escape from the overwhelming everything of life. What do you turn to? How do you describe your core without speaking aloud, without having to talk to someone about it? This is how. Music. Lyrics. Poetry. Do you feel it? Do you? It's here, it's everywhere, locked within you, within the most tone deaf of us. It's begging to be released, become unleashed in a tearing chord, a crying melody, soulful harmony, dying lyric. You feel it yet? It's concealed here, within every word that I write. This is my release. I want you to see it, to feel it with me. This pure expression of every tangible and imaginable emotion known and unknown to man. To me. Welcome to The Window.