You can only swallow so much blood
Before you are drunk
On your own punch
Before the tourniquet
Of his eyes
Pulls you down
No strings attached
Is a funny phrase
Considering the people who use it
Are just marionettes
Shells of themselves
I would know
And I told him
I was gonna write about this
And I told myself
That this was gonna crash and burn
And at this point
I'm not even upset
We both knew this was coming
We both knew
His drunken stupor
His phone call
And for once in my life
I'm happy
His song is over
His rhythm is done
I am a metronome
In a sea of bad trumpet players
And it seems to me
That I'm not gonna be able to fix this
But if I'm lucky
I might be able to cover it up
