You taught me how to smoke
When I look in the mirror I always see your shadow pass by.
When the high is high it feels like the lowest of lows.

I don't want to miss more of life 
having days pass me by.

no more maybe.
Our second, sixth or third time to grieve

My heart is not a doorway for you to trespass, 
You brought me low but I’m not low class

I said it too many times
I know
this is our final goodbye

last time you  left me with bruises
the time before you broke my heart
Am I better off haunted by your bad habits