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Johnny's got a grip on a life,
He on the smoke from the dope in his pipe.
around his fingers, a noose is loosing slack,
P.C.P. gun to the head,
his forearm to fill his veins with smack.
half a or a barrel full of lead.
Grasping at and coming up empty, Carving with his life
this somber of hope:
"Kill me."

spells success M-O-N-E-Y
to block out the world or the that she'll fall.
If she on some toes, it's an eye for an eye.
She's up the ladder, she's building up a wall,
Tightrope things, never stops.
Money nothing from a 40 floor drop.
Her blanket has worn itself thin,
hanging in the closet from a rope of her own sin.

Nothing changes, will.
skeptic, primed for the kill.
Seeking but selfish gain,
your pockets again and again
Selling your soul, taking fill.
Grasping at straws, your own will.
your conscience, empty, bereft.
Losing your for the world, you are left alone.

Some throw bricks through and yell,
beat their backs for fear of hell.
Two-edged sword that flesh to the joints,
the is narrow, you missed the point.
The was made eons ago,
You're yourself, closing your eyes.
Fistful of sand a prize.
you do, nothing can be new.
Seeking to not ourselves, never.
on the wind, your life's gonna blow.
The Lord is God, we live forever.What is good? What is true?