Needles, lighters, don't bring up those past fighters,
seeing reality while looking for immortality,
in something that could kill you,
or sometimes fulfill too.

as I hung up the noose,
made sure it wasn't too loose.
Suddenly a plate stood before me,
crushed up stones looking like snow,
glittering and glimmering,
catching my eye, changing my life.

Like a person jumping from a burning building,
drugs is my net, and nothing has as of yet;
been able to help me as much as being in this steady roulette.
Because I'm cursed if I don't and I'm cursed if I do.
Putting poisons in my intestines, to cope with I've gone through.

but I'm not asking for your weeping, nor your sympathy,
all I'm asking is understanding of the person in this symphony,
because I'm writing with rhythm and I'm writing with notes,
but it's different what I'm hearing in mine to all these other folk,

I'm not begging for forgiveness, though I used to be,
I used to plead and beg and ask for...