Stronger than the Bottle but Weaker than the Drug.

crying angel - dollyxheart.deviantart.com

I used to be your friend
but all good things come to an end,
You couldn't take the way,
I'd say, you live your life like a baby,
addicted to the bottle,
your own personal liquor license on full throttle,
full steam ahead on a road of no redemption,
this road to hell, you've chosen
is paved with good intention
rather not mention, the part about how you were invincible
before you fell, before you got hurt
before you werent.

Stronger than the bottle.

Your life of sin will only now begin,
put on your seat belt,
this feeling,
a feeling better off not felt and wait.
Now go; pick a needle, drink a lil, drop the bottle, take the shot,
inject the sin
in.
Close your eyes,
Rush of, Burst of
Pleasure, and the world rolls on while
your time.
stands.
still.

Invincible again,
trying to remember when you last felt this good
last felt you could touch the stars
and be back before
dinner time.

Weaker than the drug.

You've pulled the plug on your own life,
can't get a grip, its too fast now
you can understand how,
you lost your hold on reality
but loving every moment.

Been there done that, messed around
and found
that life in the slow lane aint worth living,
so dying, in the fast lane is worth forgiving
yourself
your sin but once again your world shatters,
collapses in,
and the thousands of tiny pieces
are scattered by the wind.

Lost and outspoken
for words,
your vocaulary dissolved, by what brought you heaven
made you see people, like birds;
with halo's.
Your angel left you so long ago,
you and I both know
its because of these delinquent habits,
like rabbits,
Karma practices its sexual repertoire on your life
Fucking you, every chance it gets
and it never forgets, what you did, what you've done
no matter how many times you think you've won
there it is, hiding behind every wrong turn.

You've picked the wrong needle this time,
long weaned off the bottle,
still rolling on full throttle, just a different kind
you wind the belt around your arm, and tighten to the last notch;
you clench your fist to find the vain;
before your pleasure comes the pain and stop.
The fast lane, faster again, life starts feeling better, when;

Time stops.
Time gives up.
Your Time is up.

You lead a life built by sin
and the predicament you now find yourself in,
is deadly.

You're dead to me.