Lyrics by Layne Staley Music by Staley, McCready, Martin, Saunders
Do the laughs die when One such as I run And allow myself Time for own true needs When convincing me That you're on my team May not lie to me But not mentioning
So sit back and have An hysterical Laugh at tiny holes Buy and trade men's souls
X-ray mind reads plenty Worth no more than pennies
You, they, it or what Have been fair, I thought May you never free You from you or me See the more I think I'm afraid to blink I don't move an inch Slowly draining me
Hire a spy and bug me Pimp your friends for money Rich and growing sicker Sell the dead ones quicker