Fine Art of Making It Out Alive - Boys Night Out

Kiss me on the forehead, angel

Before I go to sleep

I can’t remember if its Thursday or December

I’ve been keeping track of the days

By counting hangovers and bottles on my floor

My mangled memory is making me mistake

Misfortune for forgiveness

I don’t think I’ll make it out alive

So promise me that you’ll survive to bury me Just empty all the alcohol

And chronicle the chemicals

But don’t forget the cigarettes

Remember every ember

Alright, I admit

That past few months were broken and abused

Now I’m used to the bleeding and unspoken words

That kept me so confused

Maybe we can get past these addictions

But the bodies piling up are a whole other story

Unless your stomach’s strong enough

Hell, maybe we can just pretend that this recovery

Won’t depend on moderation and in the end

The same routine won’t leave me dead

Just empty all the alcohol, or baby

We’re dead

Tomorrow we’ll wake up in time

To stop this double suicide

Through kisses laced with cyanide

And one last look through blood shot eyes

I guess this is what they call

Killing yourself in small doses