The drums, once loudly resonant
Don't resonate in tune
The drumming feels a little slow, yet somehow comes too soon
Bruised skin can't take another hit without you
The pockets were once lined in time
The seams seemed to bear thread
Emptying my pockets now finds crumbs where there was bread
Smooth skin asking only for a hit
And asking nice

The drugs, the drugs
The drugs, the drugs
The drugs, the drugs
The drugs, the drugs

Copyright: DOMINO PUBLISHING COMPANY
Writer(s): Nicholas Shanahan Thorburn