Count down my mistakes
And i
Keep them to myself because i got nothing to say
I count my troubles
And i keep them locked
Beneath the bottles
Of rum and coke
I can't believe
I let him go
Wasn't young love
Supposed to be
Beautiful
And i say
Its all a lie
I'm gonna die right now
Loveless and high
I count my troubles
But i won't get far with it
By fifteen
I'll stop and cry to sleep
Is never easy
When you're troubles stay near
Inside the bed sheets
Sipping in to feed
And i hope you know that
I hope you know
That nothing of this
Is because of you yeah
YOU ARE READING
An autobiography in lyrics
PoesíaA bunch of old lyrics I once wrote under crippling fear no one would love me. BOOK 1
