Things are going to be different now, Mariah.
Yeah. No shit.
All I want right now
is one more hit.

But no drugs for me,
because you had to tell.
You had to tell someone
that "She's not well."

Everything will be okay.
Don't say what you don't know.
The looney bin, or jail,
is where I'm bound to go.

Not only was it illegal,
but it was wrong.
I haven't had a hit
in so long.

You're getting the help you need.
What I need is to be high.
It helps to watch my life
slowly pass me by.

Now that I'm unhappily drug free,
I shake, I twitch, and I scream.
Every day I wake up I pray
that it's all just a dream.

You'll finally be okay.
I think I'm about to cry.
Without my drug,
I'm surely going to die.

It makes me better,
it makes me okay,
something I long to be
every night and every day.

You're going to be fine, Mariah. I promise.
It's called addiction, honey.
Taking away my precious drug
really isn't funny.

Cocaine isn't just my happiness,
it's my peace of mind.
It's what makes the day better,
leaving all the bad stuff behind.

I did what I did because I love you.
I love you. Those words you said.
Those words constantly
run through my head.

I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

But what I really hear is I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.

I hate you.
But I love you so fucking much.