now that it's over can i say we fucked?
or you still wanna call that making love?
and i'm pretty sensitive but even i knew better,
however, if i knew you'd leave i would have never gave what i did
gone so far, i'm just a lame kid, waiting on big changes
i'm scared shit of making, and that i'll probably end up wasting
but if i had a hand to hold walking along the frigid streets
i wouldn't creep along so slow, so i need to get started
keep myself away from all the martyrs
-pretty much you, and uh
so much for showing love, made up, face down
i paid you in sex, drugs, cash, and compliments
so what more could you have wanted?
and baby i don't make mistakes, so what they say can't be true
and you were what i was waiting on, the miracle
it was short lived, that god-given libido as a wandering sensation
that we were always busy making, and now as it lays wasted
can't believe you folded, but i can because before you did you told me
i guess it really is the same old, sad, boring story, love lost, no recovery
a relapse and an unfortunate function of my mind that comes with
it leaves me far behind the present, unaware of the next
and recovery is way more indulgent than just a 12 step