Every day I need her more,
but she doesn't know because no-one ever told her so
So few appreciate all of her,
they hardly really need her,
though she's the nicotine and morphine I need,
ruining my heart from this constant racing,
and now in my life I'm fearless and strong
because she's getting me high,
telling me to go on,
but when she stops,
I'll need a jump start or
I'll jump down in my mind,
falling from her skies,
to the bottom of my mind,
landing like a saint to hell
(in a street) every morning,
with the ladder of smoke
on the fire escape up,
promising a better life,
and I'll believe it because she used to do it for me,
and something so beautiful

could never be that wrong