Just who do you think you’re messing with?
While you spent all those hours spent with the meth smith…
You’re all strung out, shaking in habit
And it’s something that you just to have it…
I’ve gotten used to seeing junkies…
Just a football and a bunch of monkeys..
Lost in haze of past days…
Eyes glazed in so many ways…
But I could never be you…
I could never ever be you.

You took your time, girl…
I thought you’d fallen off the world..
Hanging around in alleys and bathrooms
With your eyes spent in the darkened tombs..
Pale as snow on a December morning..
And to hear you is just a warning..

I’ve spent my whole life loving you…
But you’ve fallen apart without your bag of glue..
And now life doesn’t seem so brand new..
But I guess everything is just a little clue.

Needle tracks running between your toes..
And looking around, everyone knows…
Where the hole is that all the money goes..
And your lack of a soul shows..

We forgot your swallowed innocence in our own self defense..
Which is why we torch your gypsy tents, and get an electric fence..

12/11/2003

Author's Note: I wrote this about a junkie friend of mine...

Posted on 12/11/2003
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