Maybe we will never make it home
Frozen in the middle of a crossroad.
Wondering through the night and can't let go
The holy emptiness that is my soul.
Maybe just blissful ignorance
And trying the best to feel.
Blurry vision and trembling fingers
Whiskey made it seem too real.
Maybe tomorrow it will be gone
Swiping everything away along.
Violent division of past and future
I don't think I will make it home.