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letra de take with ibuprofen - inolonger

[hook 1]
i’m on the border of alcoholic
pass by my days with jameson
i’m on the south side and hobbling
trying to wash down pain and sin

[verse 1]
i’m a melancholy and a shrew
there’s really nothing else to say or lose
and all i ever seem to wanna do
is lay in bed and watch the pain subdue me
i mix my coffee with a shot or few
and take my medication just like you
but my jaw is always apt to scream
and taking stage almost becomes a scene
i’m working daily on the day and night
hardly a day where i can dream or fight
and all my joints are slowly k!lling me
i work too much to ever go to sleep
i maybe ponder if i’m good as dead
oft troubled just to lift my head
and it’s always something i said
that justifies getting scammed again

[hook 2]
struggling to keep my words from falling
guitar feels like a pillow talking me
too long are faces not forgotten
i take my memories with ibuprofen
dull gray on the ins and out, cl!ck
machine punching through a heavy gaseous fume
can’t hearsay sh-t with my plugs and glasses
almost hard to breathe a moment’s due
[verse 2]
twelves on twelves, i want my cash to talk it
can’t make plans cause i can’t do walking
smell’s too bad but i can’t get washing
there’s no d-mn time between a sh-t and the next shift
and too d-mn bad, my bill is due on the fifth
no time to stop, no time to lay in bed sick
my hands might scream, but don’t let the scr-pes get
a medical emergency is just a pay hit
and who can get insurance cause the stacks are racking
if i break my hand again, i’ll just pencil wrap it
and if i get caught, i’ll just have to cap it
move across the state line, forget the last bit
and f— this song, i’ll sell it off to disney
i’ll sell my shirts for cheap, and i’ll write for whiskey
have a couple car-bombs an try to get sleep
before my government decides to f—ing fist me

[hook 3]
i miss a ghost, it’s like their words are stalking
i missed the roast, and i ain’t got cash to spend
put in a day and hope my pay will land it
get another bottle an i hope to down it quick
cause my medication doesn’t seem to do sh-t
i can’t move my hands and i can’t seem to focus
a day in the foundry, i found no reason
a day in the factory, and d-mn, it’s nothing less
a season in the coffee shop, i can’t think often
a month working postage and i think too much on death
i’m a melancholy pessimist
and i think i missed the point of it

- inolonger

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