A Left Turn at Best Intentions

What’s the point of ever opening our goddamn mouths
When what falls out is drunken disorder?
It’s arched backs. It’s bad habits. It’s just a Slippery Slope.
It’s false hope and a warm body for less lonely slumber.
A left turn at Best Intentions.
So what’s right when everything I’ve always known is wrong?
I wake up and wonder.
When you left it was me left leaning to what’s right.
When everything I’ve always known is wrong we still wake up and wander on.
All month long, we wake up and wander on.
All month long.
A farewell toast with our remaining cigarette,
As we’ve drawn through our skin on a slow ride of cowboy killers and fixer.
It’s where we began and the most we’ll become over time.
So it’s a left turn at Best Intentions.
Am I right if everyone you’ve always known is wrong?
I wake up and wonder.
When I left, it was you left leaning to my right,
As everyone you’ve always known was wrong.
But still, we wake up and wander on.
All month long, we wake up and wander on.
All month long.
We’ve drawn through our skin on a timeline.
Frame the shot for the fixer.
Here’s to where we began and the most we’d become over time.
All month long, we wake up and wander on.
All month long.