now I feel it again

it's the old silent friend

having a feast in my lungs



every now every then

there's a tickle within

and it scares me to death



you have heard it all before

you don't want to hear no more

'cause you know which way it goes



on my cold bathroom floor

I lay down 'till I'm sore

pouring mud on my skin



'cause I feel it again

it's the old cytoid friend

may he choke in the mud



you have heard it all before