Bayside

My friend
You're always the last one to leave those dimly lit rooms
Making sure the last glass makes its way to the table empty
And every bottle in the place
Has been upside down at least a few times
What a waste
Is this what's left of you these days?
You're not 18
anymore five years should have been enough time
For you to grow up and get over this
Not too cool
To be throwing up all morning sick
From what you might have done or done it with
I swear
If I could take your pain and frame it
And hang it on my wall
Maybe you would never have to hurt at all
I'm painting pictures in red and blue
A portrait bruised just like you
And now you're walking away
You're not 18
anymore five years should have been enough time
For you to grow up and get over this
Not too cool