They are always spitting about drugs and alcohol, with that miserable meaning of the "addiction’s" word.

How could they even understand ?

That delightful poison, running through my veins.

Maybe should I give it a try ? To forget the love of this woman.

And I crave attention. So pitiful, going on dates.

Teary in front of the television, just wishing for a glance that never comes.

Since I am falling down on my problems, let’s move on.

Yeah, let’s embrace that fucking depression ! Can I dream of marrying another person ?

Without success.

Barely thinking about sex…

While sweeties want to save me.

They want to fix my dead body and dance on my symphony.

Same ones that keep calling me an addict, cuz the hard times aren’t in my pants. Like I’m taking substances, unable to bang.

Even though they don’t know why I panic.

On my knees, I have become phobics to these screams, that keep vanting the raven, when I keep calling for her.

And I Keep Calling…

I Keep Calling.