Straight as an arrow
I'm walking on a narrow path from now
Until my next round
And I have my reasons
I feel life's just not as pleasing as it was
In the past
And white like a spectre
I don't really expect you to relate
I just need to talk
I wrote the writting that you saw
In every room, on every wall
You're not a martyr just because you took the blame
I learned that the hard way
So dry as a preacher
But Sunday hasn't quite reached me just yet
So, why not drink to that?

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