She keeps the world in four coloured boxes
That house her dreams, past loves
And how he wished to live amongst them
But tongue tied he had become
Like a puddle waiting for the sun
Nightfall, if not required
Streetlights set him on fire

Is this all for real or just a feel good drug?
Don't over think it, it won't do no good
Still I beat myself much worse than any rival could
I know you say you don't need any help
Still we ask ourselves
Self inflicted sickness
Is that what this is?

By the morning the tape runs slow
And it will stop when she goes
But in the slur of the machine
She hears what he really means

Is this all for real or just a feel good drug?
Don't over think it, it won't do no good
Still I beat myself much worse than any rival could
I know you say you don't need any help
Still we ask ourselves
Self inflicted sickness
Is that what this is?

And the flowers of blue and white now turn to brown
But she keeps them around
Still she keeps them around
The smell of February hangs in the air
Follows him around everywhere
Reminding him when she's not there
She's the meaning in the song
The lyrics that they always heard wrong
The siren sing along
On every evening that dragged on

Is this all for real or just a feel good drug?
Don't over think it, it won't do no good
Still I beat myself much worse than any rival could
I know you say you don't need any help
Still we ask ourselves
Self inflicted sickness
Is that what this is?
I guess I've grown to need it