All hail the naked king
whose clothes are scattered across the city.
Well, I spy that it’s my time to die.
I got ten years, maybe twenty.
So please, leave the amphetamines.
I’ve seen the needle and the damage done.
And I don’t know how hard it is to quit
even if after only one hit.
I’ll spend my last night in a diner
with my friends: coffee and spoon.
White is the sound of sugar.
Nothing looks sweet any more.
So please just catch a Greyhound
even if you die along the way.
And don’t stay in Denver, Colorado.
Your friends there are all a mile high
and a dime bag a dozen.
So please just catch a Greyhound
even if you die along the way.
And don’t stay in Denver, Colorado.
Your friends there are all a mile high
and a dime bag a dozen.
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