You always try to build up casual conversations
But every time you turn around and feel that frustration
Cause no one has a clue what’s going on
What do they mean when they are talking bout that road to salvation
When you’re nothing but the unknown in a cynical equation
And you feel like you’ve been trying for too long
Because you’re running from yourself
When you’re addicted to that squalor
It gets impossible to cope like everyone else
But after all, you still enjoy it
You say you can’t enjoy a sunny day without knowing rain
But every time it rains too long and causes you pain
You never knew you’re such a masochist
And though you know exactly what it is that’s holding you down
You behave like you’re a hostage with a Stockholme syndrome
Infatuated with the enemy
Because you’re running from yourself
When you’re addicted to that squalor
It gets impossible to cope like everyone else
But now you cannot live without it