With your doctor’s note
You shoot down my fishing boat
And drag me back to the shore
Self-respect is not consent
But are you feeling well spent?
Popping paracetamol on my floor
I don’t need you anymore
I don’t know why you’re at my door
On the dire street of Berlin
Consumption is a deadly sin
She’s sniffing antibiotics cos she thinks she ill
A total hypochondriac, but it’s me that’s always left with the maintenance bills
And all I want, is the safety of closed doors
And the feel of wooden floors beneath my feet
But instead, I’m walking along stony shores
And watching my heart be torn with every beat
I don’t need you anymore
I don’t know why you’re at my door
On the dire street of Berlin
Consumption is a deadly sin
I don’t need you anymore
I don’t know why you’re at my door
On the dire street of Berlin
Consumption is a deadly sin