now I feel it again
it's the old silent friend
having a feast in my lungs
every now every then
there's a tickle within
and it scares me to death
you have heard it all before
you don't want to hear no more
'cause you know which way it goes
on my cold bathroom floor
I lay down 'till I'm sore
pouring mud on my skin
'cause I feel it again
it's the old cytoid friend
may he choke in the mud
you have heard it all before..