Frustration's licking my ear
Like a hungry pedophile.
Why can't I just share my thoughts
Tell you it's over now.
You're like an angry kid on drugs.
Talking is useless.
If words are like bullets
You're either dodging them
Or you're bulletproof.
Dead Lane Staley sings to my brains
And only mine
That he's the man in the box
He's the only person who has a clue
About the way I feel.
And he's dead.
And he was addicted.
That's pretty much why he's dead.
What a pity...
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