Another chance to drink away your problems, and with it your sincerity.
I’ve seen this far too many times.
Another holiday, another chance to hide.
Well now I’ve fucking had it with you.
I’ve tried to care, what should I do?
But you’re convinced that I should participate,
I’m sorry, I just can’t relate to someone who continues to be fake. And your words?
They’ve proven to mean nothing.
This is what you call a celebration?
With no comprehension or respect for anything ?
Every day’s a holiday to me, a celebration of life.
And these few days I’ll cherish, and do my best to keep it alive. So as you lie in your bed, contemplation rears its head, will you know that you gave one hundred….
Percent?!