If I was caught on t.v. talking to Dr. Phil,
’bout how I’m addicted to pain killers
relapsed five times
him screaming at me, “It’s not the power of will!”
My man would be sitting right beside me with the saddest of eyes
embarrassed, with the envelope pushed aside
for all I put him through, in his short-lived life.
He’d be holdin’ my hand
sayin’ I got one last chance..
Then he’d shoot me a smile and I’d relapse all again
because it’s his smiles I swallow
to kill the pain.