If it doesn’t **** you,
You’ll wish it did.
And that’s the sad reality.

Blood drips down your arm;
There will be a permanent scar,
If it doesn’t **** you.

You lost the will to live;
You have no more passion
And that’s the sad reality.

You use it to numb the pain;
It makes you feel better,
If it doesn’t **** you.

They made you feel like ****;
They drew you to it,
And that’s the sad reality.

You’re addicted to the feeling on your skin.
You’ll use it every day
If it doesn’t **** you,
And that’s the sad reality.