A Junkies Blues
I still have questions with no answers.
I'm alive . . . but I'm not living.
I don't have much time left . . . I just know this:
I've lived a violent life.
I might as well be dead.
I just want to sleep . . . forever
and forget . . .
It's more than physical, love unconditional.
Everything else is like a Band-Aid.
Everything will be alright.
So you cover your bleeding wounds,
so the dogs won't smell you coming.
There may be time . . . and
. . . everything will work out fine.
But what if it never changes?
And what if I wasn't to blame?
And what if it never gets any better . . . than this?
Everything will be alright.
What if I wasn't to blame?
And what if I could change?
Yeah, what if I could change?
Everything will work out fine.
What if you're only . . . ?
What if I'm only insane?