| Dear diary
|
| This battle’s on the verge of emergency
|
| Call in a chemical warfare attack
|
| Tempting fate with the crisis that my vices will orchestrate
|
| Cold sweats as my bold pupils dilate
|
| I could die from the weight of it all
|
| Or make it through another close call
|
| Here’s a note to myself, «Back to the wall
|
| The higher you get, girl, the further you fall»
|
| Here’s a note to myself, «Alone in my pain
|
| How close can you come to the edge before you walk away?»
|
| Through blackened veins the evil in the needle bleeds into my brain
|
| And sells me on the sense of a fool’s escape
|
| I could die from the weight of it all
|
| Or make it through another close call
|
| Here’s a note to myself, «Back to the wall
|
| The higher you get, girl, the further you fall»
|
| Here’s a note to myself, «Alone in my pain
|
| How close can you come to the edge before you walk away?»
|
| Before you walk away
|
| But I just need one more taste, one more taste
|
| Scars earned from searching for solutions
|
| So desperate just to feel
|
| Sold on self-prescribed pollution, just distorting what was real
|
| And so it goes in the throes of what I can’t overcome
|
| Painfully numb
|
| Dear diary
|
| This battle’s on the verge of emergency
|
| Here’s a note to myself, «Back to the wall
|
| The higher you get, girl, the further you fall»
|
| Here’s a note to myself, «Alone in my pain
|
| How close can you come to the edge before you walk away?»
|
| Before you walk away
|
| Before you walk away |