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follow my words
and i'll tell you a story
about a time when i thought i would die
now these words aren't about
pride, power, or glory
its about taking too many tabs and floating up high

i'm not sure why i thought
i could control
i guess i thought i had iron will
in truth, no one does, but
i was on a roll
so i sniffed and i ate at least ten pills

now this was the way
i spent most of my days
so messed up
i couldn't tell you my name
the first drink i took
wrote the end of the book
but for me it was part of my game

i wouldve probably been fine
had i stayed between these lines
but, more often than not
thats not how it goes
i though some morphine would be great
and that sealed my fate
as i was feeling from my head to my toes

now once i was here
it became oh so clear
no matter what i took
it would not be enough
next it was coke, a valium, and a bar
these things, they got me quite far
in fact, in an hour i was feeling quite rough

i was no longer swell
hit my head as i fell
felt like someone swept me down with a broom
though i thought i was tough
not nearly enough
i ended up in the emergency room

the way i felt, can't describe
but, it was a very bad vibe
still, i was angry at what was to follow
they told me slow down
catch my breath
or else catch my death
and, boy that's a tough pill to swallow

then i did it again
right back in the sin
i just love to put myself through hell
but, today i do nothing
just sit and i think
nostalgic, alone, in my cell