The Fine Art of Self Destruction Jesse Malin

I'm a witness to the sickness
In a place I call my home
On the weekend hit the deep end
With the secrets that I own
Like an old song with a new girl
She never gets the jokes
But you need her so you bleed her
For the image it evokes

Lonely process
Only process
I will make it up to you

Took a long walk
For a tall boy
Sinking down in the couch
Playing new wave like the old days
Put the barrel in your mouth
Like a sad man when he's deadpan

Never knew a work of art
Or a father with his children
A marriage that blew apart

Lonely process
Only process
I will make it up
I will take it up to you