(heroin)
I remember walking around the town,
Way back in San Jose.
You were on the street in your dirty clothes,
With a bag of Frito Lay.
And you won't even hold my hand.
And you could never understand.
I remember seeing your face again,
On the cover of a magazine.
It hit me so damn hard you know,
Just like drinking gasoline.
And you won't even hold my hand.
And you could never understand.
Standing out there in the rain.
So let me open up my veins.
I have fallen into the sun.
I've become like everyone.
And we still don't know what's right,
But well, I guess it doesn't matter tonight.
If...if this isn't making sense,
It...it just might be the heroin.
I can't...can't seem to get my head,
Back...back, and I feel like I'm made of lead.
See...see whatever you want to see,
And be...be whatever you want to be,
And don't...don't listen to me,
And you won't...won't end up just like me.
I can't...can't feel you anymore,
My hands...hands are opening up the door,
And I...I pushed you away,
You ask, "Why?" Why? Why, 'cause I'm a dick, OK?
Run, run, run from the cops,
I got a gun...gun, and a scotch on the rocks,
You say, "Well, well...well, what do we have here?"
Hell. Hell, I just wanted to disappear.
And you won't even hold my hand.
And you could never understand.
Standing out there in the rain.
So let me open up my veins.
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