Here's to wishing you would call, but knowing that you won't. Here's to hoping for the best, but always thinking the worst. Here's to sleepless nights and teardrop soaked pillowcases. Here's to seeing the bloodstains on the knife and knowing that theyre mine. Here's to believing that the night is always better than the day. Here's to hiding things, and lying. Because it's mans oldest habit. And nothing is going to change it. Here's to no longer knowing why I'm living, but trying to stay alive long enough to find out.