Delight fades away, 7 AM Empty bottles and decay We're on the brink and the feast is not over Headache and old pain walking round our brain Desperately crawling, among the ghosts Our primary hosts, fickle friends are taking over Reason cast away, vanish and burn Something like a bad delay We're on the brink may the feast be all over Headache and real pain stalking our stoned brain Find a place to hide from the ghosts, just on our knees now We've been living in this hell of a night Desperately crawling, among the ghosts Our primary hosts, fickle friends have taken over