In and out of these places i go,
23 and nothing to show,
Is it me or was it you,
Maybe its us and the ****** too?

This hand has been dealt,
So i steal and lie,
And It cant be felt,
Why not just die?

In and out of jail i go,
****** makes me feel so low,
Its my enemy and friend,
A hand will it extend?

Surely so, back into its depths,
Turning blue taking no breaths,
Thats not enough to turn away,
I guess i need my soul to decay?