if something said could serve as thread to her woundi’d commit to iti’d tell my tongue to tell of it until it broke my jawuntil she sawthat from the bottles we breakher reflections makein this sea of glass, will she see at last the girl i’ve seen all alongsuch beauty, a prizeshe’s closed her own eyes to such valuea truth, a truth[x2]i’m just another addict with a different kind of needle in my armanother bottle in my handbrings a thought to understand that we’re all drunkwalking the narrowest white lines ever drawngoing further than we’ve ever gone[x2]we fall just to feel recoverywe stumble into something soberingi’ve found it overflowing from the cup of God