We chase misprinted liesWe chase the tracks of timeAnd yet I fightAnd yet I fightThis battle all aloneNo one to cry toNo place to call homeMy gift of self is rapedMy privacy is rakedAnd yet I findAnd yet I findRepeating in my headIf I can't be my ownI'd feel better deadNutshell> Jar Of Flies (1993) >Alice In ChainsWithout you something is missing...
