Hair of the Dog

Call me back tomorrow, today is not so good
I'm in a bad place in my head, and I can't get out of bed
If I pull myself together, it wouldn't mean a thing
I've always been the one who finds
A way to turn it around when I'm going down that road

Today and tomorrow, still so unpredictable
I'm either setting myself, or pulling out nails
If I pull myself together, like a pair of open scissors
In a room of paper dolls
My eyes stay glued to the wall, I'm going down that road

Lost among the mirrors, facing the mirror
Trying to imitate myself, obliterate myself
If I tried something different, tried leaning on a friend
Stuffed in a box beneath my bed
In an orgy of retouched flesh, I'm going down that road

I'm going down that road
I'm going down that road