Testo Boneyard

Sat with an old friend from my childhood home
We make a toast to being lonely, because it's better than drinking alone
And wash our hands of your cold company
‘cause it's what we really need

I would be happier knowing this means something
But you're writhing at home all alone
So there's no fucking meaning at all
I blacked out over and over

There's a blood stain on my collar line
It reminds that I'm hopeful, and I notice it sometimes
When I'm bleeding out
I colour in my selfish doubt
I black it out

I blacked out over and over