death by paper cut

scribbles,

have you had too many hits of that paperback joint
and i know you said you'd love me until forever runs out
but you bundled me in patchwork promises and they're ripping to the seams:
and i always hated an empty oath
and i know you've been with plenty of girls with denim skirts and prose flirts
i only love you in the worst possible ways

/ cigarette solar mouth sores and
bad indie rock made in a garage
and i never let my hair grow out
or shook my drinking problem and
talking too much when i shouldn't have /

and i'm   empty   empty   empty 
how did you become the thing you hate the most ?