Coursing through my veins turning every thought deranged.
Increasing my paranoia and leaving myself changed.
He’s telling me a story but I’m busy watching life pass by.
It’s been about a month ago since the last I let myself get high.
Darkness is slipping through the cracks and I can feel it spread.
Creating figures in the shadows, and loud voices in my head.
3 am, it's a nice night and the wind is completely still.
When we come down from our high we'll have some hours to ****.
We have nowhere to go and it’s about half a lifetime until the next bus.
We just vibing while we watch the world waking up around us.