21,
21,
21,
we're playing a lucky game so
pick your sides.
21,
21,
21,
you're the lucky boy today so
enjoy the ride.
But tonic is so toxic
so tasteless
so bitter-trivial-faceless
when you have to swallow your pill
everyday at 8:30 PM,
sharp.
My liver ain't in the best of shape
my body ain't in the best of weights
my soul sure is dying fast
though nothing ever lasts.
21,
21,
21 more times--
just a number,
though nothing is just a number.
My blood is running poison,
a cut a running toxic tap.
My body is a chemical,
a bitter, vindictive compound.
21,
21,
21,
it all tastes so **** bitter,
all I can taste is bitter.