I’m here, alone, lying on my bed

Nine shots of tequila in my head

Quiet, not making any sound

No movement, just waiting to be found

I can’t feel my arms and hands

Is this heaven or is this just a trance?

Could it be the infamous nirvana?

Where you kill but it still isn’t murder

To me, to you, is this really true?

Or just illusions that lead me to my confusion

Maybe just butterscotch dreams

Nothing but shadows and moonbeams

I hope this feeling is here to stay

I love it; it makes all the pain go away

It hides the utmost given fact

That I am clueless and off track

I can do whatever I want to do

No one here to stop this ignorant fool

Keep him away from what covers his eyes

The numb of the touch to his skin of the ice

The worries and cries grab him by the feet

Lifts him up in the air until their eyes meet

Suddenly, he can see amidst the blur

Now he has been acquainted with the reflection of a sinner

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