Lead is a toxin so slow to kill;
I eat it every day, wear it in my shoes,
And paint it on my nails so grey.
I see it everywhere in the walls
And around the windows
because I walk upon poisoned ground.
There's no other color to draw upon
And this world is dead and rotten
from all dying things radiated in no man's land.
There's nothing left for me on the other hand.
Poisons so deadly, but sweet to the lost,
There's no hurry to live whatever the cost.
People are dying, what's the use of dragging it out?
Somehow, however, it seems we live longer without
Poisons -
unless it's in your veins.
Seems to make for happier people, tho their minds are gone.
Wormwood is a poison so easy to spill.
I put it with my champagne, pour it all the way,
And drink it when I'm on my feet.
I use it every time I'm up against the wall
Or alone by the windows
Because my mind is lost from the poisons around.
There's no colored wine to hide behind,
As this world is dead and rotten
From all the dying things drinking themselves to death.
There's nothing else left for me, not even meth.
Poisons so deadly, but sweet to the lost,
There's no hurry to live whatever the cost.
People are dying, what's the use of dragging it out?
Somehow, however, it seems we live longer without
Poisons -
unless it's in your veins.
Seems so sad to leave all the happier people, tho my mind is gone.
