I can’t tell you what it really is
I can only tell you what it feels like
And right now there’s a steel knife in my windpipe
I can’t breathe but I still fight while I can fight
As long as the wrong feels right it’s like I’m in flight
High off of love, drunk from my hate
Its like I’m huffing paint
And I love it the more that I suffer, I suffocate
And right before I’m about to drown she resuscitates me
She fucking hates me and I love it, wait