In Big Fuck Off Letters

Something Lost In That Uplifting Chorus
Happiness Had You Searching In Your Thesaurus
For Words That Might Sound Right
'I'm Doing Well' Is Only Said With Bite
Now I'm Unheard And Slurred
Stop Wasting Pages With An Instrumental Word
If An Album Can Be Wrote
I Justify Drunken Poems And A Wailed Quote
At Least What He Said Was True
Sure Laura Was Miles Too Good For You
My Door Is Always Opened
Banging In The Wind As It's Hoping
Songs Endings Can Only Be
Going With Someone Else Who Is Not Me
Noah Your Songs Make Little Sense
When There Is A Boyfriend For A Picket Fence

Cigarettes Taste Better Than You
Opening Packets When Nights Are Out Of Tune
From A Tear Tasting Mouth
Its Amazing What Shocking Whiskey Can Spout
Roaming Outside The Confines
I Should Really Be Sticking To The Page Lines
It Was Going To Be Unheeded
But Where's The Lads When Theres Editing Needed
No Strangers I Know These People
We Will Spoon As I Can Only Sleep In Fetal
So Someone Put Me To Bed
I Think Enough Words Are Yet To Be Said
Good God My Hands Hurt
Punching Walls Over A Bit Of Skirt
Close To Picking Up The Phone
To Tell You I Am Ready To Disown

No Matter What My Sisters Said
It Was Only Water And Ground To Retread
So I'll Smoke Filter-less Cigarettes
As I Separate Memories From The Regrets
And My Pen Stops Writing
For The Teardrops And Ink Are Fighting
Like They Are Suppose To
When It Comes To Writing About You

CK