Bad Habits

Depression has become a rope around my throat,
growing tighter and tighter with each wrong move and every false hope.
And I keep on slipping, harder and faster with every negative emotion,
and this is purely because I'm too lazy, too broken to exercise devotion.
So here comes the devil in a new form, a crippling addiction and a broken photo frame.
I'll drink and smoke away my consciousness until I feel better or not the same.
Two days later I'll realise I don't want to be this way,
I'll try and try, I'll change my mind,
I'll flirt with the excuse that this life is mine and it's okay the way it is,
a simple lie when I tell myself "I'm fine".

So tell me, every time I write a song for how I'm feeling,
Does it fix me? I call this masking not healing,
But it works for me, and I'll feel free for a week.
Until this next storm of sadness happens.
Then we'll return to our bad habits.

If this is how it's going to be, if this is the 'us' that survived through this,
I'm not sure it was worth it.
Because you weren't mine, but you were perfect.
You were always loved, and we just clicked.
Those moments we spent as friends, those days we would go for drives and share our lives,
the nights we'd stay in and watch movies and talk about exploring those blue seas.
that was everything to me, and what is it now if not a desperate memory?
I don't think you saw us the way I did, because I never had the courage to ask.
But maybe if I could we'd last. And you wouldn't be my broken past.

So tell me, every time I write a song for how I'm feeling,
Does it fix me? I call this masking not healing,
But it works for me, and I'll feel free for a month.
Until this next storm of sadness happens.
Then I'll return to my bad habits.