| Self-medication for short-term elation
|
| Vacation from racing thoughts
|
| A complacent existence
|
| Refusal to give in to the fact I am truly lost
|
| As thoughts of you fade, I think that I’m safe
|
| In a web spun from traces of dependency
|
| And I know
|
| I’m letting shit pile up
|
| To the point that my knees give out and go back to my old crutch
|
| I need to find
|
| A new way of coping
|
| A different distraction
|
| A new plan of action
|
| But I can’t imagine anything other than…
|
| Self-medication for short-term elation
|
| Vacation from racing thoughts
|
| A complacent existence
|
| Refusal to give in to the fact that I’m truly lost
|
| As thoughts of this fade, I know I’m not safe
|
| In a web spun from time wasted in a place I should not be
|
| I spent the whole night getting wine-drunk and reading
|
| Until I grew woozy and the lines lost their meaning
|
| The room is now spinning
|
| So I turn off the ceiling fan
|
| I spent the whole night getting wine-drunk and reading
|
| Until I grew woozy and the lines lost their meaning
|
| The room is now spinning
|
| So I bury my face in my hands
|
| Fuck!
|
| I’m spinning
|
| I’m spinning
|
| I’m spinning out of control
|
| I’m spinning
|
| I’m spinning
|
| I’m spinning out of control
|
| I’m spinning
|
| I’m spinning
|
| I’m spinning out of control
|
| The light’s dimming
|
| My mind’s giving out |