The Addict

The path of an addict can be real weary/Spinning out of control because he's not steering/A much greater force that he cannot overcome/Has trapped him in hell and has made him numb/Searching for the light but this drug has got him blinded/And the scars along his arms are just the pain that is reminded/His whole entire focus was to simply get high/But his life just seemed so hopeless as it passed him right by/It was the alcohol, the meth and the coke and the weed/The pills, and the shrooms, the heroin and speed/He could feel his chest get heavy and his breath would be much shorter/With the chills and the sweats all curled up in the corner/For every single time that this event had occurred/No one ever lent a hand, no one ever said a word/It was a cry out for help and something that he wanted/Freedom from these demons that had his mind so gone and haunted/Some guidance and some vision to pull out through the darkness/But this high would be his last and also be his darkest.