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