Roaches In The Sink

Roaches in the sink, I'm cooking something dead
She's holding my mistakes up over my head
I'm simmering my meal with utter patience
She's screaming out bleeding verbal mutilations
A fed up Serbian kills Archduke Ferdinand
Unhinging the wrath of millions
Time to drink myself into
Oblivion

Stagger down the hall, open up the door
Ripped up photographs are scattered across the floor
Severed pieces of me
Pieces of my faulty personality
I walk inside the room, She's staring hard in rage
With a stern moral expression
My future's looking
Unpleasant

I can't afford this psychotic trauma pain thing
I can't afford it anymore
I can't afford the overwhelming weirdness

A murderous silence, she stares down at her feet
I take this as a cue, that I'm supposed to speak
In words of heartfelt conviction
And kneel before the priest
For my act of contrition