Spitting vomit into the toilet bowl
Oh, I've got a feeling that I'll never be whole
I'll keep eating to fill that space
Run to the toilet like it's a bloody race
Eating is a weakness, a guilty pleasure
A map leading away from the bones I treasure
Hand me the diet pills, the diet coke
Have a hot shower, an indulgent smoke
At the end of the day, fingers down my throat
Reaching for saviour, reaching for hope
