Oh, woe is me, the active addict says Repeating the same mistakes, (I'd be better off dead) For my self-pity soundtrack is spinning tonight, The same damn song is stuck in my head
The addict in recovery Smiles into the night For she can see the stars in the sky And appreciate their worth
Is this a gift or a curse? Is the denial really stronger than self-worth? Is it the Devil, the situation, or just a little fun? I mean, how could it be, that my own mind is deceiving me?
The active addict lives a thousand lives In both...