I smoke **** as if I'm on a schedule.
Must not sleep , must maintain THC levels.
Can't stop lest the stress get the best of me.
Man, all this life is gonna be the death of me.

On occasions I find some aid in the form of *******,
it makes the days so speedy and it eases the pain.
I know it's a problem and I know I probably shouldn't,
but that's just how it goes for the little train that couldn't.

Industrial smoke stacks don't hold a candle to my habit,
I smoke each cigarette like it's the last one on the planet.
My fight or flight mechanism up and snapped,
now I'm always on edge and in patience I lack.

I'm probably more whiskey than flesh or blood.
I drink at home alone, I don't consume it for fun.
I'm just hoping I can stay wasted to the grave.
Life is ******* rotten and people are depraved.