T.S.R.

Against Me!

The party's over, 
a CD skipping, 
it's the same hook repeating, 
grows more grating with each passing second. 
And the walls contain a resonation, laughter, and conversation. 
It was fun while it lasted, but now we should be going. 
I hope everybody had a real, real good time. T
he hospitality's partaken, my head is flying my heart's racing to keep up.
And I hope I haven't overdone it. 
I hope my body can take it. 
I hope I make the occasion. 
It's only this fucked up 
I start realizing that all this living is just dying.
If these are my friends, if this is my home, if this is how i spend my nights, how I communicate, and demonstrate a love of life? 
My eyes roll into the back of my head, 
if these are the last words that I've ever said, 
no I'm not ready to die just yet.