I'd love to lie and say I don't hate the truth. But I hate myself for not leaving you. And they can drag and tow, and I'll cut the line. And I heal my wounds with whiskey and wine. Cut deep your words enough to scar. The thin blood, it rains through my tired heart. Slipped away the days, stay up all night. And I heal my wounds with whiskey and wine. Thin trail of smoke, the grey mist of ash. The cigarettes they burn away a morning pa**ed. They can drag and tow, and I'll cut the line. And I heal my wounds with whiskey and wine. To bury it all aside with whiskey and wine.