Bath Of Needles

Life is like swimming in a bath of needles,
This ain't no playground, babe.
Every time I find my feet,
My ass hits the floor again.

Days blend together
Like brightly coloured paints being mixed
Into a dirty brown.

Where have all the good times gone?

Long telephone calls,
Time spent talking about nothing.

Sometimes the pain dulls down to an ache,
And I start to believe that I can live with it.
That feeling never lasts.
Where have all the good times gone?

Life is like swimming in a bath of needles,
But the needles must be empty
Because I still don't feel any better.