3 Month Weekend

It's a Thursday morning, four a.m
And you won't let me go
If tomorrow comes I guess I'll never know
Even in the darkest hour it's the brightest
Time of day
Even when I go to bed I'm still awake

Eyes held up with toothpicks
And my jaw is going off
I will never leave you or
Admit that I was wrong

There's so many things I'd like to say
I'm foaming at the mouth
Maybe I could write
My pen is hollowed out
I've got ideas and inventions
And I'd use them if I could

Stop waking up the next day
When they're all no good

Please don't say another word
I know your story well
Conversations take two
But I'm talking, talking to myself

Now I need an alibi and everything I did was true
But every word I said was just a lie