I stuck around for the good times
The fleeting moments of happiness that rested in a valley between mountains of rage
A hatred for yourself festering in the darkness of repressed memories
You never loved me or her, how could you
So you made the house shake
Glasses smashed, skin torn, blue fades into yellow
But I still stuck around for the good times
I couldn’t leave, where would I go
I felt homeless in my own home
The nightmares kept me up but the tears pulled me to the undertow
I tumbled to the bottom only to look up and see not even a trace of sunlight
What's the point of trying to swim if you’ve already drowned?
I suppose that’s why I stuck around for the good times.