Pump Fake

So when did cigarettes start cluttering your hands?
I ponder this some nights alone when I undress
And what do you do with those boys I see you with
Or better yet, what would I do if you came back?
I’d say no, or I hope I could, but I still want you
I hope that I die, I die, oh
And what do you think I would do after you left?
Would I stay sober? I think it’d be much worse, oh
I’d cut my arms off, I’d cut my arms off
I’d cut my arms off, I’d cut my arms off, I’d cut them off
No regeneration, regeneration, regeneration