Lack Of Prozac

You see me as a looser

You see me as a clown

You see me as a drinker

Well I see you as a whore

She runs after signs

She runs with a lie

She said she needed space

But that was just an excuse to run away

I had swallowed too much pain

I had to ventilate some hate

Amongst sissy pop-rock stars

My fist started to talk