• Why do we gotta fight
    I can't be doing this no more.
    I need my guitar
    for some comfort.
    Silence is now
    bouncing off the walls.
    I almost like the sound.
    Of the slamming door.
    Strumming away my pain and all of my anxiety. stressed
    All the confidence i had, just left me.
    Scribble down some notes, run my hand through my hair.
    The cold wood against my feet which are bare.
    Pick between my thumb and my fingers.
    Purple as a plum and my fingers pink like a rose.Pick falls to the floor as i take a sigh.
    I feel a little relieved and a little more alive.
    Why we gotta fight
    I can't be doing this no more.
    I always need my guitar
    for some comfort.