I wish I could pick up a vice to cope with these volatile moods

I guess cigarettes and coffee just don't kill me like you do

Every time I comb my hand through my hair, half of it comes loose

You were looking at your feet when I was looking for an excuse

So I'll roll up my right sleeve

And hope that I don't seize

'Cause my left arm's numb and everything tastes like Reds

Like Reds

Like Reds

Yeah, you fucked me up way more than anything else could have

Yeah, you are the tar in my

In my veins, in my taste, and on my breath

Another day, another dose has got me feeling comatose now

(More cigarettes, more cigarettes)

And nothing you could say or do or I don't even know is gonna cut it

('Cause everything tastes like Reds)

Now that the withdrawal has kicked in and I'm just begging for one more hit

Just one more hit

Just one more

Everything tastes like Reds

Like cigarettes

Like Reds

Like Reds

Yeah, you fucked me up way more than anything else could have

Like Reds

Like Reds

Yeah, you fucked me up way more than anything else could have