A last time for everything, but can he see where it began.
Yearning for the high he loves and seeks, time and time again.
It's so easy to be swept away and changed just like the wind.
Not even the same person he was inside, Rather just a shell of a man.
Knowing he loves this all too much, no intention to quit or even try.
Carrying No more love for himself than the ones he's used or left to cry.
Shooting strait into his veins, self ashamed of this life,
leaving him feeling dirty, and impure another time.
Never feeling clean, no matter how much he scrubs his skin,
The needle can rape the contience and soul of even the strongest men.
Sitting close to a friend as he sees him fall over and die
as his friends stuggled on the ground to bring the other ba to life.
He continues drawing ba his self one more shot to keep him high,
leaving a ringing in his ears and that roar inside his mind.
The point in which he's sought is drawn with a thin line,
coming closer than he's known to death than meets the eye.
That roar he's heard before is not the same this time.
Death's train is already delievering him to the other side.
