by Ethan Womack

Created on: August 17, 2007

I wish I had a cigarette
Some food would be nice too
A drink or three to wash it down
And something to abuse

With every step I take
I take each step alone
The box above my head
Is not much, but it's home

And everything I've had
Has all but left me now
The God my mother told me of
Is a wolf that's on the prowl

In every way that could go wrong
Has gone wrong all the way
The drugs I push into my nose
Have held me here at bay

I'm trapped inside my head now
With nothing left to do
But lay, and sleep, and crawl around
And think of thoughts I knew

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