I can't tell you what it really is, I can only tell you what it feels like And right now, there's a steel knife in my windpipe I can't breathe, but I still fight while I can fight As long as the wrong feels right, it's like I'm in flight High off her love, drunk from her hate It's like I'm huffin' paint and I love her, the more I suffer, I suffocate And right before I'm about to drown, she resuscitates me She fuckin' hates me, and I love it — "Wait! Where you going?" — "I'm leaving you!" — "No, you ain't! Come back!" 