What Day Is It, October? - Free Throw

My lifestyle is a form of suicide

But then again everyone’s is

Mine just may be faster than others

The drinking, smoking, hearing from my mother

That I should take much better care of myself

I spend my life staring at my bedroom walls

The TVs on but I don’t care

In my mind it really hasn’t been that long

But then reality sets in and It’s been years

All alone in my room

Without anything to do

Except I’m thinking of you

And the times that we spent

Glued at the lips, always attached at the hip

Your special brand of crazy

And the sex after fights

I know that those days are gone

I think about it most nights

Those days are gone

I think about you most nights