What exactly am I trying to hide from myself?
Why can't I feel good without chemical help?
What is so terrible about being sober?
Trading it all, is it finally over?
Given chance after chance, blessing after blessing,
Yet I still believe fate I am testing.
With every passing moment, my heart grows colder;
I'll trade it all for the drug, so it's finally over.
The only mercy I need,
Is the kind that flows through my veins.
The needle pricks, I bleed;
Emotions finally tamed.
No longer aware of the shame.
Once I made my first move, I began a never ending game.
Every moment I'm sober,
My heart grows colder,
As I wait for God to say, "your life's finally over."