I need to go on an adventure.
Live the Hemingway lifestyle.
I need to let go all this anger.
Everyday drink, write and cry.
I need to kill a lion with my bare hands.
Eat his raw flesh, and dance till I drop dead.
Then maybe, my soul won't be as rotten;
my buried dreams as forgotten;
and all that I've ever cared for
won't be walking out of the front door.
Walking out of the front door.
I need to stop to be a liar
and get used to this new world
of insolence and alcoholic triumph
where everything else is gone.
I need to please my senses till the morning comes.
Drink till I forget how my old hated life was.
Then maybe, my soul won't be as rotten;
my buried dreams as forgotten;
and all that I've ever cared for
won't be walking out of the front door.
Walking out of the front door.