We The Heathens - Photographs

These photographs are all that I have left A better life inside these rugged memories But a shoebox won't hold forever And soon they'll be spilling out from the seams I'm not sure whats worse Losing them, losing it or losing me And it seems that all that I live for these days Are just drunken nights and drunken masquerades It's a funny game of charades that we play As we prey on ourselves to find it anyway We'll put on a show for us And its hard to live and its hard to die And its hard enough to ask why But its easy to forget when all you got Is a bottle of whiskey and time I spend my days trying to find the ways to numb my brain To forget about the routines that I hate So we drink and we fight And we reminisce about those nights Where nothing could touch us Not even the world outside But time is slipping away (You left us on the curb) And we're wasting we're wasting away (Never to return) The time is slipping away Your photographs are gone