I don't think you even see
The way I see

I know you see the guys who hang around
You don't see them as I do: Flies around decay
I am the broken blocks and toys strewn across the floor
They are the children who throw the pieces at each other

I know you can't see the twitching, broken fingers
The starving eyes and crazed mind of the addict
Somehow you don't see the way I limp away
Trying to escape the craving for my fix

You contradict constantly
You cannot see the weak, willess side of me
Until another man is mentioned
Then suddenly I am craven and hungry
Unable to resist my urges

What am I, babe?
Am I strong or weak?
Decide!
And stop changing your mind
Either trust me
Or don't! And let me be.
What do you want to see in me?