from the needle escapes the pain
getting high is done in vain
from the lows that bring us right down
to those moments we want nobody around
not a soul, not a friend, we just want the end
our torture becomes the blue flame
the most coldest part that lights the way
we write the words that come to our mind
usually deep inside are the thoughts that we find
the memories reborn are the ones we mourn over
when our life seemed full of promise, or even some hope to get by
we cherish our limited good times that had promised better days
& now we may as well die
but even facing death head on has no rush anymore
it's the same old story, to survive a lethal hit once more
our bodies seem to be immortal with all we do to our insides
we pop, we snort, we toke, we shoot & we smoke
we do this everyday and every night and forget to sleep or eat
time just passes us by and we forget that so is life
we wait for that rush, the rush that brings us back up to a clearer and warmer state
where we can momentarily enjoy life, even though the euphoria is fake
now we lay back down, bewildered and in a daze
people see the suffering as sick
that injecting into a vein is fucking weak
But behind every user, every addict of some kind
is a really hard story that could open your mind
Have you ever faced your demons like you are about to go to battle ?
They stand there looking right back at your in your eye
not afraid to live, not afraid to die, but ready to fight you face to face
you don't trust your bravery after harbouring everything for so long
the things you never told anyone, the self medication was the only one
It is so complex and so much more than a detox or normal routine could bring
Discrimination is not something that addiction has time to play
Rich, poor, sick, blind, business men, white, brown, black, crippled, old or young
Male, female, straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, famous or not.
It could be your sister, your dad, your colleague or your neighbours best friend.
You don't have to do anything to be chosen as an addict. It's in your brain and the makes already there. Or perhaps the pain of a traumatic event, the complexity of bipolar, schizophrenia, bpd or something else. The pain of a death or a divorce. Too much money, or not enough at all.
You can't run or hide once addiction has let itself decide.
It is much more painful then wanting to die
it is truly alone with your demons you fight
the inner duality and being lost in your own world all night
You simply can not call or message a friend to talk
They don't want to help, and they don't see you walk the walk
You reach out to people you may have helped them to cope
any light in this tunnel would be a glimpse of hope
bur sometimes you are not given that hope, and you have to walk alone
nothing can prepare you for the pain that is unknown
your body sweats and it shakes, your mind is broken & vyour soul aches,
all alone in a pool of water, your heart breaks
this was not who you were born to be,
this not the life my mother gave to me,
you say what you don't mean and shout and scream
you cry for the sanity that you could once see
you know you can get through this part
and the ugly side to this moment in life, is shit and not art
glorified through rockstars and fame
but none of that is serious, you live in shame
you feel so weak and worthless and judged upon
you contemplate how is life going to be won?
Do i stay and fight? or do i run and hide?
will anybody notice? where is my pride?
You can count down the days you are clean
You can shout out to the world how hard it's been
But there is no explanation of the hell ride you went through
if only you could turn back the time and re-do
I
getting high is done in vain
from the lows that bring us right down
to those moments we want nobody around
not a soul, not a friend, we just want the end
our torture becomes the blue flame
the most coldest part that lights the way
we write the words that come to our mind
usually deep inside are the thoughts that we find
the memories reborn are the ones we mourn over
when our life seemed full of promise, or even some hope to get by
we cherish our limited good times that had promised better days
& now we may as well die
but even facing death head on has no rush anymore
it's the same old story, to survive a lethal hit once more
our bodies seem to be immortal with all we do to our insides
we pop, we snort, we toke, we shoot & we smoke
we do this everyday and every night and forget to sleep or eat
time just passes us by and we forget that so is life
we wait for that rush, the rush that brings us back up to a clearer and warmer state
where we can momentarily enjoy life, even though the euphoria is fake
now we lay back down, bewildered and in a daze
people see the suffering as sick
that injecting into a vein is fucking weak
But behind every user, every addict of some kind
is a really hard story that could open your mind
Have you ever faced your demons like you are about to go to battle ?
They stand there looking right back at your in your eye
not afraid to live, not afraid to die, but ready to fight you face to face
you don't trust your bravery after harbouring everything for so long
the things you never told anyone, the self medication was the only one
It is so complex and so much more than a detox or normal routine could bring
Discrimination is not something that addiction has time to play
Rich, poor, sick, blind, business men, white, brown, black, crippled, old or young
Male, female, straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, famous or not.
It could be your sister, your dad, your colleague or your neighbours best friend.
You don't have to do anything to be chosen as an addict. It's in your brain and the makes already there. Or perhaps the pain of a traumatic event, the complexity of bipolar, schizophrenia, bpd or something else. The pain of a death or a divorce. Too much money, or not enough at all.
You can't run or hide once addiction has let itself decide.
It is much more painful then wanting to die
it is truly alone with your demons you fight
the inner duality and being lost in your own world all night
You simply can not call or message a friend to talk
They don't want to help, and they don't see you walk the walk
You reach out to people you may have helped them to cope
any light in this tunnel would be a glimpse of hope
bur sometimes you are not given that hope, and you have to walk alone
nothing can prepare you for the pain that is unknown
your body sweats and it shakes, your mind is broken & vyour soul aches,
all alone in a pool of water, your heart breaks
this was not who you were born to be,
this not the life my mother gave to me,
you say what you don't mean and shout and scream
you cry for the sanity that you could once see
you know you can get through this part
and the ugly side to this moment in life, is shit and not art
glorified through rockstars and fame
but none of that is serious, you live in shame
you feel so weak and worthless and judged upon
you contemplate how is life going to be won?
Do i stay and fight? or do i run and hide?
will anybody notice? where is my pride?
You can count down the days you are clean
You can shout out to the world how hard it's been
But there is no explanation of the hell ride you went through
if only you could turn back the time and re-do
I
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