drunk on the blood nstuck to the rug nhe vomits nostalgia nas the casualties nwatch him seethe nwith careful curiosity nwith a raw dialogue nand effort to waste nhe gives his sermon nbut his words are pointless nto the sober conscious nnthey breathe the same air nnall is mind as mind is all nflesh is stone as stone is flesh npain is real as real is pain nnin a sad awakening nhe finds a window ngod it's morning nnall thoughts pierce nas memories are scarce nand the cuts have dried out nnbut the terror of nthe night he lost nstill hangs his head low nndrunk on the rug nstuck to the blood nhe vomits nostalgia nnI waited for so long nfor something to seem real nI had so many questions nI answered all my questions nwhen I seen your face turn nand I knew what was real nand I knew what was lost nyes I knew nwhat was real