He lives on a tightrope
The tightrope of life
Someday he'll shake that rope

And fall out of life

Without

Thinking of tomorrow
Or the future to come
The things that he steals

For the rush that does kill
The needle in his vein
That takes away all his pain

For now

As he sits

Alone at home
The monkey that's on his back
Is screaming for more


All he wants
Is to blow out his mind so he tries so hard

He loves the drug
He also hates the drug for the things that he does
There's a hole

In his arm, that keeps calling his name

He has the spoon

And the rig
He clips the balloon
And pours it all in


Then it starts
The sweat starts to pour

When the target is finally made
The warm rush that starts
To fill in his brain with fear


He thinks he's won
The final game

But it comes short
So he'll try it again