Silly junkie, drugs are for ...

sittin pretty in your unmade bed, half-crushed evidence strewn across the dusty floor. your shaking hands move quickly now, fingers flash across the keys barely keeping time with lightning fire thought waves. you fell off the wagon, legalized narcotic jittering through your shriveled veins. so long, it seemed, so long without it. pull that rusty nail from out your crying eyes as the temptation of another taste proved too much to bear. it'll hurt again tomorrow, without a drop in sight and no hits left to take. but the quick fix is never easy...
don't go back to your junkie ways, jackin' off random strangers for a few quarters to feed the monkey in that ice cold vendin' machine. strung out and twitching on the street corner desperate for your next icy sip of sweet refreshing goodness, knowing in a short while it'll leave you thirsty and dry and aching for more.
dehydrate from the inside out, drink more to need more. feed the beast, another cog in the corporate machine since they let you have that first taste at age 3. your sister's birthday party, everyone else was doing it so why not you too, baby blue?
run and jump and feel the rush until you crash, headfirst, facefirst, dignity first in a puddle of your own self-loathing. you did it to yourself, silly child - drugs are for lunatics. so they told you you'd go nuts without it, eyes glued open clockwork style. watch these ads or else, they said, you'd never be a real american if you didn't need the taste every now and then. we all need the taste. just a sip and nothing more. and in the end are you even sure its their pushing that got you started in the first place? just like that stolen cigarette, snuck out back to light it at age 10, coughed your lungs out and swore never again. and that one stuck, just crave the secondhand every now and then. but it wasnt sweet, wasnt good. you didnt need that fix like this one. just to function, think, breathe, keep moving like a real person instead of the zombie searching the house for her lost brains and keychains and you don't even realize you've become what they all wanted, everyone united in the need for speed. all colors, races, creeds, styles, cliques, nations holding hands and combing the desert for one more drop to still the savage amped up heartbeat...

you know i'd like to buy the world a coke, but that'd make me your enabler...