There’s a girl lying next to you with a famine in her brain
Controlling the passage all the way through to her veins
Slender and slight, tender and tight
Hustle-hustle-score-shoot
The same tracks played both your arms.

Collapsed veins and your little sister
Laid out on your foil platter
Collapse her world into the torment
See it dissolve in clear water
Boom bang!
The desperate addict was she.

Feel the pop you know she’*****
Now she’s to the land of the nod
Clutching the poppy seed waste
When you’ve got smack, who needs god?
A world without reason, no conscience of treason
Contented to the same clouded dreams
Feed her the brown sugar; watch her forget her mother
Not a life falling apart at the seams
It’s going to keep her hanging on (or so it seems)

A 6 inch buckled belt, wrap it tight ‘round
Black leather, white marks, nothing felt
Shoot it on up, syringe full of brown
A ritual to the mind, counsel to the crown

Sink a needle in, red marks the spot
Take a deep breath, purple means you stop
Tease the blood’s arm, plunge it back down
A swirling mass gone, counsel to the crown