 It was the coldest night in Boston in the history of winter.
black outside like a murder of crows. I was six days clean and sober with a bottle on the table. a hurt inside that nobody knows. one shot away from shooting my soal straight through the ceiling and fly away from feeling all this pain that still aint gone. but flyings kinda risky, when your wings are made of whiskey and i know that ill come crashing down right after the dawn.
when theres no one around and the silence in your soul is the only sound. when the darkness that surrounds you, are you hiding from the light? when you finally hit the bottom, will you do whats wrong or right? youre gonna find out what your made of, in the middle of the night.
listen i can keep a secret, and hold it deep inside. every sin that keeps you sinner, ever lie you ever lie. when my heart is bent to breaking, from all the hell i put it through. all the love that ive forsaken, gonna run from what is true. oh now what you gonna do?
when theres no one around and the silence in your soul is the only sound. when the darkness that surrounds you, are you hiding from the light? when you finally hit the bottom, will you do whats wrong or right? youre gonna find out what your made of, in the middle of the night.
in the middle of the night
it was the codlest night in boston in the history of winter. black outside like a murder of crows.
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