Falling to the ground, no questions asked. Building anger, the alcohol becomes thicker than the blood. Doing everything to feel some sort of connection. Finding anything to feel nothing at all.
You poor old thing, you're pretty young, blacken your lungs and brighten your sinister gaze and take those judgmental eyes, and point them inward to yourself.
Shot down, and when everytime. Shot down. Falling to the ground, no questions asked. Before they put, the bullets in your chest.