Anaconda Vice

Self-medication for short-term elation Vacation from racing thoughts A complacent existence Refusal to give in to the fact I am truly lost As thoughts of you fade, I think that I'm safe In a web spun from traces of dependency And I know I'm letting shit pile up To the point that my knees give out and go back to my old crutch I need to find a new way of coping A different distraction A new plan of action But I can't imagine anything. Self-medication for short-term elation Vacation from racing thoughts A complacent existence Refusal to give in to the fact that I'm truly lost As thoughts of this fade, I know I'm not safe In a web spun from time wasted in a place I should not be I spent the whole night getting wine-drunk and reading Until I grew woozy and the lines lost their meaning The room is now spinning So turn off the ceiling fan I spent the whole night getting wine-drunk and reading Until I grew woozy and the lines lost their meaning The room is now spinning So I bury my face in my hands Fuck! I'm spinning I'm spinning I'm spinning out of control I'm spinning I'm spinning I'm spinning out of control I'm spinning I'm spinning I'm spinning out of control The light's dimming My mind's giving out