Hate Your Drug

Like four paper-dolls / all heavy with sleep, / They hold you like a baby, / your body so weak. / They lay you on a white bed, / almost dead at nineteen, / Like four paper dolls / all heavy with sleep. / And with your blonde hair / all over my dress, / Your heart had stopped beating, / your head on my chest, / And I told you for the last time / that I loved you best. / And with your blonde hair / all over my dress