Is sobriety killing my creativity?
Or is it better off this way?
It's hard to find some comfort in this
When all I know is pain

I couldn't go on much longer
With the way I was feeling inside
But who am I now that I'm sober?
Loss of identity will reside

Let me feel the lines of your hands
From your finger tips on down
I don't know how to fix me
But your skin is safe and sound

My addiction doesn't make me
Or at least thats what they say
I created my own hell
And breathes are getting harder to take

Step one is to admit that
I have a problem with this well
This shouldn't be news to you
I've been crying out for help

I can't go on much longer
With the way I'm feeling inside
Who am I now that it's over?
Give myself to the fleeting tide

I need to feel the lines of your hands
From your fingertips on down
Give me something to hold onto
When I feel like I'm going to drown.