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 TV's 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
Those days are gone
Those days are gone
Those days are gone
I think about you most nights
