There is no Elixir for the wounds you inflict
Even if there was
You would have dried up its source long ago

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When depression raises it ugly head
Often its simple cause lies in
The second hand treatment meted
by someone you care.

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Find pleasures in small things in life
In activities that satisfy you
You don't have to be a know it all!

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Sometime you forge ahead saying every thing will be fine
Then you look back for support
And there's none.

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Do what you wanna do, who cares actually.

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It is the pain of this mad ache
Which dulls my senses
Highly inebriated, going back for more.*

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Don't break my heart and walk away
Then come back and expect me to welcome you back

Don't think that my heart is your stool (seat)
You can sit on and relax and watch me make a fool (of myself)

You may have run out of your supply and need a naive like me
But don't expect that fools will not grow wise one day
Your behavior's so predictable,  stone blinds shall stare