Crashing to the ground, bleeding inside, can't stand to hear a sound. Convulsing on the floor, screaming for more. "I can't just quit." Its killing me now, "but I don't want to hear about it." I want all the smoke to fill up my lungs, ease its way around, feed me the cancer, and I'll give you my answer. "Its slow suicide." "Legal suicide." Even if I am bleeding inside! Just swallow some pills, that will help the chills. Take another shot of booze, I'm sure you won't lose. Take another hit and rest your head. Because one day we all end up dead! Fuck what they say, admit it, you want to take your last breath, even if you can't run with them, because you can't breathe. No more pleading, no more pleasing, just my own needs I am feeding. Guess I'm as bad as the junkie. Not dead yet, Guess I'm fucking lucky. |