Chemicals push their way through my blood
My mind wants to move but I’m stuck in the mud
It’s hard to distinguish between thought or feeling
Night or day, floor or ceiling
What gives me this desire, this need
to swallow this pill, to smoke this weed?
Is it nature or nurture? Genetic or learned?
Is it in my veins to always be burned?
I don't know, and I don’t care
Cuz life isn't great, or even fair
And it’ll all be over in the blink of an eye
So who gives a fuck, I’ll be stoned till I die
