Take it back, little bitch,
to a head space when I ain't freaking,
ain't seeking any other reason
to be on para-spell,
to be sitting here and drinking and wishing we could go back when
nothing phased us and you weren't dipping
on the other side,
now it's poison,
you and I.
It's shame the membrane outwitted the brain.
I don't want to talk about it,
don't wanna hold your hand and stand with you when a band plays in the rain --
make this fucking bullshit work
see, you added the sickness,
the slickness, the sly little lies that crawled deep inside me
now swallow the drug
and if you can't stand the sickness and thickness
and the way back when
of our blue relationship
then turn your stomach upside down
and take it elsewhere.