Face down, I woke up on the floor, again.

Spit it out-- the words I'll never say again.

How can one create the mess I'm in?

Easy. Happily invite it in.



I feel the sky is closing in.

My chest-- it hurts. I can not breathe.

It's blinding me. I can not see.



You make me... You make me sick.

You make me... You make me sick.

(I think I'm getting better)



Explode! Hand grenade without a pin.

Broken, you're better than you've ever been.

Just think: I'm nothing, and I never win,

because you're part of me, my only friend.



You make me...You make me... You make me sick.

You make me...You make me... You make me sick.



I feel the sky is closing in.

My chest-- it hurts. I can not breathe.

It's blinding me. I can not see.



You make me... You make me sick.

You make me... You make me sick.

(I think I'm getting better)