(yes, I ripped the title off of Silverchair)
Next to her Lips Shape Softening Strength I am dead Cannot lift a finger, cannot bear to move Water still dripping from my face In the shadows, an ex-junkie cries out for a hit A drop of acid on his tongue A sweet liquid to enter his veins Tossing and turning, kicking and screaming He cannot put off this relapse If only he had avoided starting in the beginning In the spotlight, I toss and turn and kick like him Crying out in pain, away from her Lips Shape Never next to mine, never even close I relapse like a junkie I act like an ex-alcoholic Except while the drugs and the alcohol miss their obsessors Longing for a mutual touch My addiction just continues along Never missing a beat, never caring Not like I want her to anyway, I'm not worth the trouble
