It's funny the things you do to yourself,
Your problem, you only mask it,
You're doing yourself no good,
Just spraying perfume on your own casket.
You play this little game,
Make yourself look clean and neat,
Promising to everyone,
But you're lying through your teeth.
When will you wake up?
Realise for once, you're not too tough,
That doing this on your own,
Just isn't enough.
I pray that one day you'll see,
And breathe in fresh air,
But you always drop lower,
Looking broken beyond repair.
But maybe you should drop lower,
Because you only care about getting higher,
You say you love me more than your toxins?
I guess that's why they call you a lier.