I'm so sick of your antics
The way you flaunt your guilty, red problem.
Bored of your overdone, doleful facade,
I see the games you play, Temptress
Luring everyone to a sorry fold.
Fold.
Like you know it's the answer;
The cause of your swallow-puke pill trade.
Wallow and drown in that pool of self-pity,
There's nothing left for you here.
