Champagne and Fires

Wild ones
 Wounded ones
 The ones who never found a home
 Each with a host of our own fevered ghosts
 And things we'd never quite outgrown
 And oh, now weren't we a pretty sight?
 Those wounded birds hell bent on getting back in flight
 And oh, that voracious appetite
 We'd burn it down but somehow always stay entwined
 Consummate opposites
 Blissfully ignorant of time
 I guess the truth is that all of that youth
 Is wasted on us in our prime
 And oh, now weren't we a pretty sight?
 Swallowing pain like it was nothing out of spite
 But oh, how it caught us, oh so slight
 With no foundation, it's so easy to unwind
 Relative
 Sister, kin
 The hollow words we try to find
 Oh how I staggered
 From each of your daggers
 The truth is all of us were blind
 And oh, now weren't we a pretty sight?
 Each one that ended in a catastrophic fight
 But oh, that's the thing I keep in mind
 Champagne and fires just distract me from my life