The end of us is here

and we’ve brought it on ourselves

we kept looking for something better

and we damned ourselves to hell

we weren't happy with what we had

so we had to make it worse

But at least soon we will feel nothing

And none of us will hurt

Recovery isn’t real and addiction is forever they can stop using their drug of choice

But they're not really better

There shall be cursed by drugs lust

and they will never forget her

Whoever says that they have

Is just a good pretender

because first only the Strong

are able to shake that habbit

there's no real draw

but still you have to have it

They still hate their lives

and are sick with or without it

they don't care about anything else

all their cares are about it

if they do get it out of their lives

everyday is a constant struggle

they will never be who they were

and the changes are Never subtle

what used to be a happy person

Is now nothing but troubled

they keep trying to seek events

but they only meet rebuttal

every day is a risk

that they inevitably have to take

sobriety is a choice

that you will always have to make

it's always in the back of your mind

and everybody makes mistakes

But this one will take your life

and it's probably already too late

just after one time

they’re likly to be put out

Even if they’re brought back

when they administer mouth to mouth

There’s no other purpose

As to what life is about

they no longer love you

and your love for them is replaced with doubt

doubts for the future

and doubt that you care

doubt that anything matters

they don't feel anything but scared That a life without a monster

almost too much to bear

tell me where are the recovered

because I don’t think anybody’s there