Exit Se7en - FIAW

Well, this is my turn to face honesty, it's a confrontation with myself
Well, a lot of you claim amnesty and say I created my own hell
Well, in a lot of ways I did
I mean, I did keep on breathin'
Well, and I was like a baby on that bottle
Goddamn, was I teethin'?

But here's where you fail you see
You check my place in the race
Judging from the sidelines you never had a taste of the pace
You never heard the shot that got this burnin' hot, desperate lot off at the start
Never were taught that it doesn't matter what you want
That we all began from a different mark with a different path and a different heart
And only if we're lucky and we try real hard do we even get to where the spectators are

Warm whiskey on a Sunday morning, vodka shots just to get out of bed
I don't care, because I'm in mourning
I don't care that I'll end up dead
Spinning hearts feel less heavy, a dizzy mind can't regret
If I die tonight, I guess I'm ready
My soul is quiet and my glass is wet

Holy shit, was I really that stupid?
The stars are laughing and I'm target practice for cupid
I was chasing after Fate, not realizing that Fate is a whore
Every time life closes a window, this bitch slams a door
I couldn't cope with the pressure so I went on a bender
I lost everything I wasn't protecting with candor, like
Maybe if I'm just open about everything in me
And I just throw it out there for everyone one to see
Then maybe there won't be shit left to say
And I can quietly drink my life away

Well, I can't claim amnesty, I sure wasn't innocent
Well, my liquor bill was ridiculous, I don't even know how much I spent
Well, it was only with others' help that I even paid my rent
I'm sober now, the stars burnt out and I'm over it

Hey, not that fast, I think I've got one more thing to say to anyone else out there pissing their life away
Hey you, yeah, you
Put the bottle away
Don't let them win so easy
No, not today
We all die in the end, but there's still time to play
If life gives you lemons, then you make lemonade
And if motherfuckers play games, then you play charades
You give 'em the fucking finger and you walk away

Warm whiskey on a Sunday morning, vodka shots just to get out of bed
I don't care, because I'm in mourning
I don't care that I'll end up dead
Spinning hearts feel less heavy, a dizzy mind can't regret
I can't die tonight, no, I'm not ready
I'm awake, my appetite is whet

Written by:
Adrian Bartholomew

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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