You’re a drug I can’t quit;
a memory I can’t outrun.
No matter how I stumble away from you,
when I glance back you’re always smiling.

Half a step behind me,
never quite leaving my sight.
Tell me how you’re supposed to leave my mind
when things are like this?

I must be an addict
the way I shiver, the way I shake
the way I simply fall to pieces
when you are not here.

Day after day I slip on my mask,
ready to perform once more for the world to see.
But what are the chances that said mask
is slowly but surely falling apart?

Already the cracks are already starting to show.

—  Cyanide