She's a special girl you know, the kind I'd hope to see, hanging on a wall, watching me cross the street
I wonder how long it will be before I'm sick of her, and I no longer care where she goes or has been, because she's the new thing
Feel my stomach sink. Whatever she brings, I cast myself in
She is the new thing
It started so slight then I flared into life, attention again onto another new thing
Once she had me on my knees, enamoured with disease
Now, she fails to impress
A different sickness
A different kind of sickness, lacking any interest
And I, sunk in apathy, totally absorbed in me
Sitting vacant on my own, my senses lying prone
She was the new thing
Feel my stomach sink and I curse my slow limbs
Staring at her, alterior girl, I cast myself into whatever she brings...
Another new
With sickness, it ends how it begins: First mine then hers, and then the cycle blurs as my actions reoccur through no fault of my own, through no fault of my own
|
Switch to Russian 
