Chula Vista - Paul Wright

She’s lying on the bathroom floor asking herself what’s life for

and someday I pray that she feels alright

and he’s lying on his bedroom floor writing songs singing metaphors

like tonite might be their last nite

sometimes a walk becomes a trip and a trip becomes a fall

addicted to it all drugs and alcohol

she’s all tweaked out but no one notices at all

she tries to reach out but he doesn’t hear her call

cuz no one see her trouble cuz she doesn’t show the struggle

she locks herself up as her tears turn to puddles

of lies and regrets of nights she forgets

like where she is and if she’ll ever make it back to him

and if she had a dollar for every time he called her

she’d be sitting pretty on a mountain made of pennies

and if he had a dime for every line she was snorting

I’d bet he have a ride that he never could afford

and he’s sick of the drama tired of holding on to the hope that she’s the one so he puts it in a poem

she calls he calls back he yells who’s that

the phone falls dropped call and in the hall a gun goes (bang!)