# 59

It' s the disease of the age

It' s the disease that we crave

Alone at the end of the rave

We catch the last bus home

Maybe we' re victims of fate

Remember when we' d celebrate

We' d drink and ger high until late

And now we' re all alone.

(( Protect me from what I want...

Protect me. Protect me.))
- Placebo -