We've got to get better or we'll never get worse.
Heed all my convictions just to feed our sick addictions.
See the reds, they don't hurt me,
its the blues and the greens.
When reality starts to blur out
the space in between.

We sit in the silence.
Needles in the eyelids.
Just a metaphor for lack of love.

When everything's so surreal
there's no way to feel
the chemicals enter your veins.

"So just smile on forever.
It'll all just get better."

...So sudden it all just gets worse.