I'm so glad you ran away, this was becoming to much of a cliche.
all of these realities were to much for you, a needle in your arm was your rescue.
hiding from any form of maturity sets you free, disguising your self pity turning into a zombie.
all of your dreams and aspirations are set aside, deemed to be forgotten the more your supplied.
i wonder when your strides of pride will dissolve into shame, when the games up and you're done being a dealers little pet who will you blame.
your life style of fun is nothing more then a cruel pun. this security blanket is just the lining of your casket.
full credit is due your the target and the culprit,
inveigh all you want it doesn't change the outcome, the thing you thought gave you freedom is just a form of loathsome.
what do you think you'll become? your a harlot, cant get enough of this dirty habbit,
you make it so easy its got you under its control, slowly stealing your soul,
all you do is obey no room for leeway,
your sense of puerility is artificial, your mind is so feeble.