She's a special girl you know, the kind I'd hope to see, hanging on a wall, watching me cross the street 

I wonder how long it will be before I'm sick of her, and I no longer care where she goes or has been, because she's the new thing 

Feel my stomach sink. Whatever she brings, I cast myself in 

She is the new thing 

It started so slight then I flared into life, attention again onto another new thing 

Once she had me on my knees, enamoured with disease 

Now, she fails to impress 

A different sickness 

A different kind of sickness, lacking any interest 

And I, sunk in apathy, totally absorbed in me 

Sitting vacant on my own, my senses lying prone 

She was the new thing 

Feel my stomach sink and I curse my slow limbs 

Staring at her, alterior girl, I cast myself into whatever she brings... 

Another new 

With sickness, it ends how it begins: First mine then hers, and then the cycle blurs as my actions reoccur through no fault of my own, through no fault of my own