Sick के बोल

Face down, I woke up on the floor, again. Spit it out-- the words I'll never say again. How can one create the mess I'm in? Easy. Happily invite it in. I feel the sky is closing in. My chest-- it hurts. I can not breathe. It's blinding me. I can not see. You make me... You make me sick. You make me... You make me sick. (I think I'm getting better) Explode! Hand grenade without a pin. Broken, you're better than you've ever been. Just think: I'm nothing, and I never win, because you're part of me, my only friend. You make me...You make me... You make me sick. You make me...You make me... You make me sick. I feel the sky is closing in. My chest-- it hurts. I can not breathe. It's blinding me. I can not see. You make me... You make me sick. You make me... You make me sick. (I think I'm getting better)