needles and, popping pills, only gets me by, with a few little thrills, waking up, not knowing where i am, passing out, its just another routine, always, again and again, you always look, down on me, for the things, that i enjoy to do, what the hell, is wrong with me, maybe is not that, and its all you, what the hell, why bother, its all done and through, lonliness, but full of ecstacy, mentally, physically, all draint out, stressed out, wandering 'bout, wondering, this is all, a torn up, reality.