Pain in my chest. I'm outta breath. Frankly I'm exhausted.
The walls are closing in. Chipped paint in the faucet.
Jesus...This is what I've became, no way to solve it.
She left. The pain...only cocaine can calm it.
It ain't working. I stare at the ceiling. Cold rag on my head,
Trying to repair this feeling with coke bags on the bed.
I know she'll laugh when I'm dead. No passion is left.
What we have is regret, and old photos of our past at its best.
Damn...I still see her packing her shit, yelling and screaming,
"I've had it! You're a drug addict tryin to control my life.
You criticize MY decisions, like YOU know what's right!!"
Fire in her eyes. They seemed to glow in the light.
I stood back stunned as she drove into the night.
Now here I lay, alone in my life.
Punching out mirrors afraid of the ghost in my sight.
God damn it my brains racing, focus or die...
Blood dripping from knuckles onto broken shards of glass.
I look at them hoping the sharpest would slash
My wrists and open the veins; they ain't hard to miss.
I imagine my blood spraying over the apartment, then
I realize with a clear mind, my first in days,
This ain't what life's supposed to be like. Hurting in pain,
Using drugs I've purchased in this worthless place.
So I finished rehab. Damn, that nurse is a babe...
"Mr. King, today you leave here, but I have a few words to say.
First, your insurance didn't cover this. You'll get the bill in thirty days."
(I expected @
Captain Obvious to burst in the place)
"But you're clean now with a new life that's only worth what you pay.
You get what you give, and you've earned your place."
I stepped out of the building to go to my apartment,
And there she stood waiting.
Home is where the heart is.
Awwwwwww