
I sing songs about lovin' my life, but today I just don’t have the energy. I’ve thinking 'bout leaving this life, cause these bruises inside, don’t feel real to me. How intriguing the dullness, that swallows your soul, to the strength of a wet paper bag. How deceiving the notion, I cannot control my own life, so I’m choosing my death… But I’m still here, I’m still here, I'm still here, I’m still here, I’m still here, I’m still here… I’ve got numbers for friends I don’t like, And I’ve got numbers on most of my enemies. I’ve got one thing to say before I’m drunk again. Oh, it burns, oh it hurts and it burns. How intriguing the dullness, that swallows your soul, to the strength of a wet paper bag. How deceiving the notion, I cannot control my own life, so I’m choosing my death… But I’m still here, I’m still here, I’m still here, I’m still here, I’m still here, I’m still here… (Dank an Nora für den Text)
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