1000 bottles

Said he only drink in the night time, A thousand bottles piled up of white wine

A hundred thoughts so in my head about suicide A hundred percent of the time my theory's right

And my theory is that ill die before the dawn come, Maybe in a meadow somewhere where I'll be

long gone, and forgotten, I won't choose from the options

Given to me, so senselessly

The hole in my heart, it grow deeper

I feel a pierced and bled dry you not the Reaper

I was in the dirt, but you wouldn't help neither

My eyes close, it's forever