Cigarettes from Cigarettes by Tilly(!)

I'm burnt out, like the cigarette in my hand.
When did I get here? I don't understand.
How did I lose all sense of direction?
I'm diving head first for that social infection.

Have I been asleep for days, or have I not slept in days?
Either way, something has got my mind frayed.
It's all just a blur. I've been thinking of her,
but I want you. Do you want me too?
Sweat could drip, finger tips, could touch your skin and touch your lips.

I'm breaking down and I'm throwing up, but I'll pour my loneliness into a cup.
My vision blurs, my words start to slur, you're beautiful but I wish you were her.
So tell me now, tell me please, tell me honestly...does it fucking matter?

(noise)
(another noise)
(a longer noise)

I can't seem to work up the courage to care about anything.
Yeah, I'm scared to give a fuck and the pain that it could bring.
Call it apathy addiction, I'm a junkie by trade.
Taking needles of a lack of interest into metaphors of veins.

I can't seem to break out of here.
Time won't stop and the deadline draws near.
I'm almost nineteen, I should be more than I am.
Life can't move quickly enough, I need a guiding hand.
But God's not real, and your mom's not real, so I'm
Stuck. Just. As. I. Am.

But I guess I..I could be....
I could be cool. with that. Yeah I could be cool with that.
I've pulled myself through a lot of shit, what's some fecal matter compared to me?
I could be cool, with that. Yeah I could be cool with that.
As long as I can promise me to be all I can be.

• Acoustic
• DIY
• acoustic rock
• campfire punk
• campfire sadcore
• yelling
• Weatherford