I was never the kind of kid to believe
In everything my parents and teachers said
I’m not a 9 to 5 guy
With a wife and 2 kids in the suburbs
I just can not take what people say is the truth
As the truth

I have to wake up hung-over with a pounding headache
Pussy on my breath
Some ugly bitch shooting up next to me on the floor
Telling me with her black teeth and yellow eyes
That she was a model once
I have to look around the room at the dozen naked bodies
Of all shapes and sizes
Pounding away at each other
Or shaking from an overdose
I have to see the coke and hash on the table
The crack pipes
The baggies of junk
The crying girl in the bathroom
With blood dripping from between her legs
And a bottle curled in her fist
Two week-old make-up streaking her face
Like tears of irony

I have to wake up some day
And see this
And then finally realize for myself
That this is not how life was meant to be