Alcohol Makes Me Feel

And I think I'll kill myself,
Without a passing thought.
Premeditated throughout the years, with a click of my fingers and a bottle full of pills. She'll cry for me.

She won't speak my name for years.
And every song she listens to will remind her of me,
And how sorry I am for not saying goodbye.

But tomorrow is a new day,
A new way to forget the pain.
A fresh breath of air.
I'm a passing memory.
And she still won't speak my name,
But at least she'll smile some how.