| I chase my poison tail
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| And get so high that voices fail
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| I heard that when you in a fucked up space
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| No one can hear you signal help
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| I tried to set them straight
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| Tell them I self-medicate
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| All they saw’s a glitchy video
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| But then I never show my cards
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| Instead, I write for stealth
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| Blah, blah, blah, I cry for help
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| All this bellyaching’s just to say
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| My belly’s hurting after all
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| It’s all endorphins, though
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| Or maybe every Scorpio
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| Is predisposed to never feel as cold
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| As the first time they felt a loss
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| My addiction, my obsession
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| My admission, my rejection
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| I insisted, I accepted
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| My prescription carried us away
|
| Pretend I didn’t know
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| Who smoked up all the mistletoe
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| You’d really be surprised
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| How innovative I can get when left alone
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| And once them cravings strike
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| I knew I should say goodnight
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| Want for them endorphins
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| Got me saying everything except for that
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| White knuckle rodeo
|
| And failing fills my holy holes
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| Staring at my phone
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| Wondering how endorphins travel via screen
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| As I feel my withdrawal
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| I understand them 90's songs
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| Rap music has ruined me
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| I always want to loop my favorite part
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| Day to day
|
| Today is ground zero
|
| I’m twenty inches tall
|
| Today, today
|
| My sky has fallen
|
| I have no resolve
|
| My addiction, my obsession
|
| My admission, my rejection
|
| I insisted, I accepted
|
| My prescription carried me away
|
| But then you see, you do the flip
|
| In giving away the control, you’ve got it! |