Judging by the Rear View Mirror

I got so used to the shit

I didn't mind the smell

when black days turn to years

and there's no one left to tell

most have run away

some of them died

fire that thing up

it's getting cold outside

momma's tears and prayers

kiss the back of daddy's hand

the gate slams shut

again and again

only a few will understand

now I read in reverse

through the saga that I wrote

the fuck ups

and disappointment

the blood stained

suicide note

I got so good at taking

I forgot how to give

I was so busy dying

I never learned how to live