Serotonin (Baumann) - June ’04

You stopped my heart, you’re making me choke.
And all I want is to see you again.
Colors and landscapes are whizzing through my subconscious
Like a psycho psychedelic sickness.
I breathe your smoke out of my lungs.
My liver’s breaking down your toxins.
And when I come to, I’ve got a splitting headache.
But I just want you more every time.

Chorus:
There’s no rehab for infatuation, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
No one to save me, nothing to crave but you.
If alcoholism is a disease, maybe you should be too.

You shot me up, you filled your syringe.
I’m abscessing from excess of you.
You stimulate my pulse, you depress my emotions.
You make me trip around.

I’ve seen so much but not been able to touch
I think I’ve got cirrhosis of the eyes.
I’ve come so close to destroying myself.
Oh, Syd Barrett he’s got nothing on me.

Chorus

My serotonin’s of the charts.
I’m running into walls like they’re not even there.
My blood plasma’s 20-molar dopamine.
And you’re not even in the same state.

Chorus

I breathe your smoke out of my lungs.
My liver’s breaking down your toxins.
And when I come to, I’ve got a splitting headache.
But I just want you more every time.