• I'm lying in bed,
    My brain is fried.
    I told you I'd call;
    Okay I lied.

    I look back on my poems,
    That have no meaning.
    I thought I meant the words,
    I see now I don't.

    I'm tired and cold,
    These words make no sense.
    And I'm just too stupid,
    to figure out the rest.

    How sad is it that it's true,
    All I have left of you
    Are the scars on my brain,
    My heart filled with pain,
    And a hangover all the same.