Escape ArtistMy breath smells like cigarettes, so you back away.Escape Artist16 hours ago in Scraps
Standing there, you look at me, and see something that you hate;
I'm clinging to bottles, tobacco and ash,
You know there would be needles if I wasn't out of cash.
I say my drug is drawing,
You think it's drawing blood.
I say I'm getting better
You say "that's a load of crud."
You know I'm going out,
That I walk alone at night.
I'm looking for trouble
And I don't know wrong from right.
You can tell I've not been sleeping,
There are bags under my eyes.
You know that I've been drinking
And chasing every high.
You beg me to stop running,
That I'm falling far too fast.
But I just say I'd rather fall
Than have to face my past.
Yeah, love, I'm an artist
But avoidance is my art
I'm no painter baby,
I'm an escape artist at heart.