Hands on the throat
A wasted air supply
This sick pleasure
Of paying too much attention

Only a few digits
And a killing voice
Makes me want nothing more

As time flies by
The obsession gets deeper
The need for love
Replaces it all

And as the feeling takes over
Addicted,so far from sober
I hear you screaming
The waiting gets longer

Immaturity grows widely
Releasing the child inside me
I wish I could really see
Just how much you really mean to me