I usually don't pour it in a glass. I drink it straight from the bottle. The way it's meant to be, my medicine. But I fucking hate it. It's murdering me. Everything is killing me. That's fine. She walks out the door, I jump off the roof. Ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no valley low enough...ain't no reason strong enough. Night is some blackness that I stay awake with, I pet the cat and stare out the window, wishing night brought peace. But I know the reality, we all do...I just pet the cat and hope to pass out. Fuck tomorrow.
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