| My friend, | |
| You're always the last one to leave | |
| Those dimly lit rooms. | |
| Making sure the last glass makes its way to the table empty. | |
| And every bottle in the place | |
| Has been upside down | |
| At least a few times what a waste. | |
| Is this what's left of you these days? | |
| You're not eighteen anymore. | |
| Five years should have been, enough time for you to grow up and get over it. | |
| Its Not too cool to be throwing up all morning sick from what you might have done or done it with. | |
| And I swear if | |
| I could take your pain | |
| And frame it and hang it on my wall, | |
| Then maybe you would never have to hurt it all. | |
| And I'm Painting pictures in red and blue. | |
| A portrait bruised just like you | |
| But now you're walking away. | |
| You're not eighteen anymore. | |
| Five years should have been, enough time for you to grow up and get over it. | |
| Its not too cool to be throwing up all morning sick from what you might of done. | |
| When is enough, finally enough? | |
| When the hang-ups and the heartbreaks get you past | |
| All failures and bad breaks just accept yourself | |
| And Find something that brings you closer to complete | |
| And these pictures in red and blue. | |
| A portrait bruised just like you | |
| But now you're walking away. | |
| You're not eighteen anymore. | |
| Five years should have been, enough time for you to grow up and get over it. | |
| Its not too cool to be throwing up all morning sick | |
| From what you might of done or done it with. | |
| When is enough, finally enough? | |
| When is enough, finally enough? |
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