These Pills and Those Drugs

Tell me a story. Why does it have a happy ending? It's not a story, it's a fairy tale. These pills don't work, and my smokes are all gone. My lighter is out of fluid, and my dealer's phone doesn't work. I'm at my breaking point, and I have no way to get what I need. My hands are shaking, and my heart is breaking. Lies keep pouring out of my mouth, as blood drips from my lip. Your hand feels like a brick hitting my face, your words, they hurt. And words, they never hurt me. I miss you. I fear you. I hate you. I want you. I love you. You and me... We just fit together. But we've never had a chance. I've found myself wanting you. Thinking about you. A lot, lately. I miss talking to you. I miss hugging you. I miss being around you. Baby, I miss you. These pills just aren't working, these drugs just don't get me far enough away. My lighter is out of fuel, and I'm broke.