Cyanide Addiction
Active member
Another day in paradise or another day in hell
Which it is.... I simple couldn't tell
I'm teetering on a soul which is mine to sell
Why? Because I'm hearing a funeral bell
It's either by my hand or his own
He can't be bothered to stop or even think
He should be left to do it to himself alone
But he can't even smell his own stink
It would be as simple as a pill drop solution
His drink already tastes a foul
But that wouldn't be right by the constitution
So I'll let him stay on the prowl
But I can't help but wonder of his fate
With my help would it be worse or better
But alas I fear it's already too late
He's even written his relatives a death letter
I wish I could help him to truly live this life
But his only happiness is found in his drink
He might as well be thrusting in himself a knife
But I guess these things are not for me to think
So for both of us it's another day in hell
Riding on the edge of life & death's carousel
It's not my soul but his that's going to sell
But I will still be forced to hear that unforgiving funeral bell
