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Debate Exposes Doubt

The workin' days were propping the bar quietly erasing the week

And I was in a corner booth thinking, pretending to read

About the impossibility of one to love unconditionally

The words that we drive into the ground

Their repetition starts to thin their meaningThen everything got frighteningly still

As they entered and intersected the floor

And I tried to choke my stare at the perfection that others would kill for

But all of the parts are the same on every face, few variables change

The differences pale when compared to the similarities they shareFinally there is clarity and there is purpose after all

But every night ends the same as I'm collapsing once more by your side

Finally there is clarity, this tiny life is making sense

And every drop numbs the both of us, but I alone am staggering

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