my problems start with your first glass of wine'
by your third im half way inclined
to break the bottle and pour it down the drain
whisper goodbye to liquid pain

you play the heartstring
but you dont know a song
you know the sad thing
now its been too long
for me to say the things that would have saved your life
no im sorry drinkings not an art

Chorus:
NO! im not looking back
im staring at you from inside the hourglass
NO! your not just letting off steam
your just giving all the stress to me
and as the sand gets higher
i can see that times beginning to run slower
will you ever look back, and think maybe i couldve done that better
no because the forecast of your past is always cloudy at best and twisted to me