Junkie

Gotta monkey on his back A craving nobody knows about Hopeless and dopeless, now that he's down and out Sicker than a dog again Suicidal, the smack ran out He found a dealer playing Russian Roulette The cure is worse than the disease He's long past caring if he dies He fills the needle, slams a shot, and then Squeezing the trigger, he closes his eyes... Fire! Junkie, what you live for, junkie, you'll gladly die for A dope seeking missile Scoring and shooting all though the night Everyone knows that everyone runs "outta-luck" Night yields the sky to the morning Time's up, he knew, so he said "Get high or die!" and then he was dead Junkie, what you live for, junkie, you'll gladly die for Junkie, it's killing you, it's killing me, can't you see Junkie.