alright, you suck, i suck--we all suck

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i told myself i'd stop, i'd be clean

because if i didn't stop now i'd never be free

(but i can't control myself because they control me)

i knew i'd end up having a heart attack

they'd find me dead on some dirty floor

but instead of laying off the crack

i just kept coming back for more and more

but that's just an addiction for ya

and in the end we're all addicts

(just our drug of choice isn't always the same

but hey--the pieces don't matter it's how you play the game)

i'm just addicted to different things than you

because you're addicted to money, love, and tv

i'm addicted to drugs, sex, and coffee

(but that worries you, and i don't want to worry you

so i'll just say i'm addicted to money, love, and tv, too)

i'm also addicted to this potent little thing

called suicide

(and this always leads to the question: why?)

i try, and i try, and i try to die

(i'm already dead inside!)

but people like you won't let me be

people like you don't want me free

so fuck you

and fuck him, fuck her, fuck me

(i'm already dead inside)

it's just time for my body to catch up

but, for the record, i do want to promise you

that i tried to stop, i tried to stop

i really did, i promise

i shook my head

trying to shake the feeling

the desire to be dead

but it's lodged in there and i can't get it out

it's a thorn in my head, with a promise of a rose

and for the record i also tried to come clean

get clean, stay clean, be clean

and i made it--i was clean

no more drugs or booze for me

the withdrawals were okay

(the sleeplessness, the nightmares, the sweats, the itches, the shakes)

because i'm already screwed up (with screws loose)

that that stuff was already a part of a normal day

because guess what: i'm crazy 

(it's the truth, don't try to hide it or soften it

i want it like it is, cold and hard and real

because people like you take for granted what's real)

i finally broke free of cocaine

i even saw my old dealer on the street

but he had forgotten my name

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