my friend, you're always the last one to leave those dimly lit rooms making,
sure the last glass makes its way.
the table emptied and every bottle in the place has been upside down
at least a few times what a waste.
is this whats left of you these days?

you're not eighteen anymore.
five years should have been enough time for you
to grow up and get over this.
not too cool to be throwing up all morning
sick from what you might of done or done it with.

and i swear if i could take your pain and frame it and hang it on my wall,
maybe you would never have to hurt it all.
painting pictures in red and blue.
a portrait bruise just like you and now you're walking away.

you're not eighteen anymore.
five years should have been enough time for you
to grow up and get over this.
not too cool to be throwing up all morning
sick from what you might of done.

when is enough, finally enough?
the hang-ups and the heartbreaks get you past.
our failures lay down but just accept yourself.
find some thing that brings you closer to complete.
painting pictures in red and blue.
a portrait bruise just like you and now youre walking away.

you're not eighteen anymore.
five years should have been enough time for you
to grow up and get over this.
not too cool to be throwing up all morning
sick from what you might of done or done it with.

when is enough, finally enough?
when is enough, finally enough?