staring at the black screen
of a broken small tv
trying to accept that this reflex is me
i look someway different
from the one of yesterday
i am just a loser anyway
it’s time to wash my face, clean this place
turn the tide, cheer for my side
cause i feel the aftertaste of another epic failure
“stop to whine, drink some wine
and your life will be just fine”
that’s what my grandpa used to say
and i will do that way.
bottle after bottle
trying to wash this pain away
looking for solutions but it wants to stay
almost losing consciousness
the world will fade away until the next big fail.
it’s time wash my face, ...
that’s what my grandpa think
and so i always drink