Walking away.
    It's not the same as running.
    Is it to you know that you've run in this ground.
    And you say take this.
    This medicine is just what you deserve.
    Swallow, choke, and die.
    
    And this bitter pill is leaving you
    with such an angry mouth.
    One that's void of all discretion
    such an awful tearing sound.
    With it's measure only equal by the power of my stare
    glaring over you and over you this feeling of despair
    is never wearing out.
    
    It's wearing off
    and it's leaving you with such a heavy heart
    and a head to match.
    The bottle is waiting
    the cap is twisted begging to be used
    and so are you.