Left

Johnny’s got a grip on a blissful life
He sucks on the smoke from the dope in his pipe
Wrapped around his fingers, a noose is loosing slack
Strangling his forearm to fill his veins with smack
P.C.P. spells gun to the head
Half a syringe or a barrel full of lead
Grasping at straws and coming up empty, Carving with his life
This somber song of hope:
«Kill me.»
Sally spells success M-O-N-E-Y
If she steps on some toes, it’s an eye for an eye
She’s climbing up the ladder, she’s building up a wall
To block out the world or the fear that she’ll fall
Tightrope things, conviction never stops
Money means nothing from a 40 floor drop
Her security blanket has worn itself thin
She’s hanging in the closet from a rope of her own sin
Nothing changes, nothing will
Always skeptic, primed for the kill
Seeking nothing but selfish gain
Filling your pockets again and again
Selling your soul, taking your fill
Grasping at straws, feeding your own will
Killing your conscience, empty, bereft
Losing your life for the world, you are left alone
Some throw bricks through windows and yell
Others beat their backs for fear of hell
Two-edged sword that cuts flesh to the joints
The path is narrow, you missed the point
Fistful of sand a pitiful prize
You’re blinding yourself, closing your eyes
The point was made eons ago
Chaff on the wind, your life’s gonna blow
Nothing you do, nothing can be new
What is good? What is true?
Seeking to serve not ourselves, never
The Lord is God, we will live forever