Sting

I cannot disguise,
All the stomach pains,
And the walking of the canes,
When you, do come out,
And you whisper up to me
In your life of tragedy,

But I cannot grow,
Till you eat the last of me,
Oh when will I be free,
And you, a parasite,
Just find another host,
Just another fool to roast,

I'm just sitting in my room,
With a needle in my hand,
Just waiting for the tomb,
Of some old dying man,
Sitting in my room,
With a needle in my hand,
Just waiting for the tomb,
Of some old dying man?.

part of Needles - SOAD