I don't know the extent of your sicknessYour addictionAll I hear is tidbitsOf the hush hushWhispersAround the houseNeedlesDrugsRehabAre common wordsToo commonHe hasn't eaten for daysHe needs helpAre familiar tooToo familiarYou're like a ghost in the houseTabooA four letter wordThey think I don't knowTo an extent I don'tI'm scared to know how bad it really isI remember being with youThe good timesRare nowSince your door is closedAnd lockedWith a note taped on itStating that you're sickBut you are not gonna get helpAnd that if someone doesn't like thatTough luckWell guess whatI don't like itI know you need helpEveryone who whispers knows you doYou know you doYet you're hidingFrom your addictionFrom the whispersFrom the truthAs I listenAnd stare at the noteOn your doorAll I can think isGet betterFor meAnd I can almost hear your voice in the back of my headSaying"Tough luck"