House of Addiction

Starting my day half way through.
Mornings are alien to me whilst
common as fuck to you.
Descending the stairs I smell my hate fuel.
Reminding me time after time what I lost...

..her.
Not you.

Not yet anyway.
Paving the road though.
Paving it just like the smoke paves your lungs.

No...
Please stop.

You'll stop eventually, right?
The smoking gets alternated with drinking at night...

Drops 'n fumes, drops 'n fumes.

Every day.
Every fucking day.

I try to ignore it.
Screaming with silence.
The few times I do mention it, you discard
the conversation with your joking conduit.
Hiding it.

Drops 'n fumes, drops 'n fumes.

I HATE it.
Always have, always will.
I don't say it often.
Never have, never still.

I feel like i'm losing it. You know?
My days all look alike. My weeks look
just like the months before them.
My seconds are minutes in hours
of boredom.

If only you'd see...

This house of addiction is the
house I feel sick in.

If only you'd see,

Your craving's the reason this house
claims its victims.