You're such a mess and you adore it In such a stress The way you want it I must confess It's little scary You look so wreckless but your posture shows you're weary I know you hate your conscience You can't let go of my hand Each time you fall to pieces You know ex-act-ly where to land Your face is made of plastic And so are all of your dreams You're everywhere I look now God You're like a fucking disease And in a way I can relate to 'cause every day I had to fight through Your little games will soon be over you're such a star now but tomorrow you'll be sober One day I'll leave you to bleed and then you'll know how I feel your pain and your misery is just another bloody sunday for me