One, two, three and four I think this time I'm dying I'm not melodramatic I'm just pragmatic beyond any Reasoning for thinking I've Got fucking rabies or something I think this time I'm dying I think this time I'm dying I think I've lost my mind Blurring the fact and the fiction Whilst simultaneously fixing Myself up with a girl named Panadol Bite the tablet, elixir Disintegrate, mouth's a mixer I think I've lost my mind I think I've lost my mind If I could just break one more night Maybe I could wake up and feel alright My optimistically set alarm clock time Serves only to mock me with flashing lights I think I've made my choice I'm a disease playing victim Slip the fate slip the victory I think I've made my choice Sink secluded in hatred Void the plans friends are making I think I've found my voice I'm a leech sucking blood bags Taste defeat, it's a sandbag Saline solution Saline solution to all your Saline solution Saline solution to all your Problems