Jonesin'

Tweakers, stoners, low lifes, and loners, the killers and the killed wishing they didn't know her, the demon of disaster, the voice in your ear screaming to go faster, your parents can't love you your a fatherless bastard, so when will it end the pain and the sorrow, what excuse will I make tonight to wake up tomorrow, that "there might be hope", life with out pain seems nice but a joke, I should just end it all now, take away the pain as my soul dies and drowns- confides and frowns upon the sane, the hunger for my next high is anexcruciating pain, my blinding ambitions of my lust for your heart, your evils symphonic like an orchestras art, without this bondage my purposes to die, so fuck tomorrow lets get high, see I scream to the voices in my brain, the God of purpose and the sadistic insane, one whispers in my ear I'll take away the pain, while the others telling me to die, if I'm not high I'm not even alive, suicide runs through my brain, reinventing my name, when will I wake up from this sleep I'm in, when did this all begin, did I feel it when it hit, or was I too numb to feel it-high as shit, see my innocents been raped, man-handled and stole away, cuz I let the world mold me as if I were it's clay... ©James Matthews