89. Life

Self depreciation is such a waste.
You only decrease in value;
Stick thin and looking a paler shade of paste,
Feeling so goddam shallow.

Stick it in your arms.

The needle loves you.

No one else comes close.

Your there to be used.

To be a slave.

To be waylayed.

To turn into stone.

To die alone.


You warm up in the afternoon
Strapped by a belt around the waste.
Evening comes to soon
You start tempting fate.

Stick it in your arms.

The needle loves you.

No one else comes close.

Your there to be used.

To be a slave.

To be waylayed.

To turn into stone.

To die alone.


If Sid was alive
He'd help you through.
If Kurdt wasn't cremated;
He'd be sure to guide you home.

Stick it in your arms.

The needle loves you.

No one else comes close.

Your there to be used.

To be a slave.

To be waylayed.

To turn into stone.

To die alone.


Senses fail
your here.
Struggling to prevail.
Holding dear.
Life.