White powder glistening
From the heavy Night before
Did i really do that?
And who is this?
My head feels as if its been
stamped on
And yet
I must must push that thought away
from the drug dealers paradise
to the grinning cheshire cat
I can only imagine
the heartache
that I have caused
the incapacibility
of my my broken heart
is yet thrown to the wind
for i am a dark angel
a agent of the night
I sleep in the day
and make my money at Night
The tides are calling me
to slow down
to chill out
and choose to lose
this wicked addiction
and yet
i am hooked
to this life of partying
and endless pursuit
Of caviar and volauvents
Of cognac and violence
Of stories Long
Yet I belived were true
the Night was once young
but now i feel like a fool
where is my coffee?
Where is my life?
What am i doing?
Where am i going?
need to do some shopping
Need some retail therapy
I see nothing but the void
I wear a plastic smile
I wear my cheapest perfume
That smells great to everyone else
But Me
Where is my Coffee?
Where is my Life?
(seen from the perspective of a rich drug addict. I do not use drugs nor do I endorse them)
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