I turn to the bottle for my answer
i slip it quietly off the shelf
the poison spreading through me like a cancer
this not who i am, it is who i have made myself

a poor substitute for your voice
does this bottle make
i tell myself that i have no choice
never have i said words so fake

my feelings they swell within
i try and drown them out
for thick are the currents of gin
and still i want you without doubt

what we have is tragically beautiful
so horribly perfect,
with feelings for you my heart is full
now every one watches, waiting for me to wreck

i curse my mind
for letting me think
within me you would find
your missing link