I’m fixated, obsessed, whatever you want to say,
I’m living in the past, in the world of yesterday.
Every week it’s worse, those five hours seem longer
Every week these feelings get a little bit stronger.
I’m addicted with this thing that should be in the past,
and I’m wondering how long it all will last.
I’m missing those days when I could live in fantasy
I miss those times when I was a tree.
I look in the mirror and my smile is faded
and that’s when I admit that I am fixated.
