There's a hole in my heart and a pain in my side
and a reality from which I cannot hide.
It sneers and it snarls and it laughs in my face,
it says: "You've got a limp, boy, and this is a race."
So I count up my money, the change I've got left,
it's enough to get drunk and buy more cigarettes.
But these coins in my pocket, they rattle like bells,
giving sound to the worst feeling I've ever felt.

I just want to stop, I need to break down
but my feet keep on moving me over the ground.
So I roll up a cigarette and open a drink
I am too sad to talk and I don't want to think.
My mind's like a fan that has been caught in the wind;
once it gets going, it just spins and it spins.
But my thoughts they just hang like the fruit on a tree,
but they're either un-ripe or too rotten to eat.
So they fall to the ground and they all rot away
and I know that I too will submit to decay.

I feel nothing for love, and nothing for lust.
I feel nothing but this overwhelming disgust.
I feel nothing for you, and nothing for us.
I feel nothing but this overwhelming disgust.

I had that same dream again, it drives me insane:
it's the on where you run from someone till you wake.
I had that same dream again, it drives me insane:
it's the on where you run from someone till you wake
So I'll sweat in my sleep, until the morning light bleeds
through the window I closed to drown out the street.
But the sound of your voice cuts through all of the noise in my head.