When I was your age

He’s always checking the time before bed
Like he doesn’t have years to sleep

He points to the bottle and asks,
Is this the same as mine?
And it hurts
It hurts that he knows it is

It brings you to your mother, that moment
You wished wouldn’t stay with him
And he says, “I pushed the knife away”
And you ask yourself, is that the same?

And it hurts
It hurts that you know it is
And now you’re checking the time before bed
Like you haven’t had years to sleep

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