One, two, fuck you!

I hear the city sky alive
with cast iron vultures.
Screaming tirelessly
"you never did what you wanted."

It's all in my head
like a soundtrack. I'm haunted
by all the "what ifs"
by the missed chances.

From a drunken kiss
that could have been my ticket.
From that someone who cared
or that someone that dared.

Look inside this boy
and saw something worth repair.
Been beaten by all of my bad decisions!

It leaves the bottle
stuck to my lips like ribbons.
I'm a present
that should never be given.

I hope I'm history.
I hope I'm never re-written.
What does Jesus Christ know about redemption?

Cause who the fuck is gonna want me now?