I've good friends with bad habits
What am I to do?
They're literary romantics
They fuck like Wilde and indulge like Hemingway
I've good friends with bad habits
And a tendency towards negligence
Just petty thieves and addicts
That don't hurt anyone but they'll burn anyway
Sometimes like every time a train passes
I get jealous of the long nights, blurred lights, the red eyes, the bar fights
The where in the hell am I and how did I get here
and which way to the nearest train
Sometimes like every time she breathes
I embrace my routine
I've good friends with bad habits
But what's a boy without a voice to do?
They're literary romantics
They fuck like Wilde and they'll die like Hemingway

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