Crackpipe

I try to be an optimist
 But my glass is always bone dry so
 I gotta fill it up or get high
 To get by to just try and
 Tip toe the tight rope
 This pessimism is a disease
 With depression and apathy sets in
 A complete lack of all motivation
 To reach any goal
 Dig deeper the hole
 We've dug with distractions and give in to a vice
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 Once it's hard to wake up
 Hard to function
 Hard to cope
 Without a six pack
 A bag of weed
 Or a bump of coke
 We've lost autonomy
 And depleted all our dopamine
 Now the world does seem a dreary place
 Devoid of any hope without a vice
 We poison ourselves and don't think twice
 About the consequence when the crutches feel so nice
 When we put band-aids on our bullet wounds
 We subtract good, add vice
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 When you decide to stop
 You can't go cold turkey
 Because you're left with a brain all out of wack
 Though it can be a quick easy saunter down to rock bottom
 It's a long road back
 There ain't no seatbelts on this wagon
 With every speedbump we're launched back
 To square one where we tell ourselves
 That we'll do better tomorrow
 We tell ourselves, promise ourselves (On our selves)
 That we'll do better tomorrow
 We promise ourselves, lie to ourselves (On our selves)
 That well do better tomorrow
 We tell ourselves, promise ourselves (On our selves)
 That we'll do better tomorrow
 But sooner those tomorrows cease to come
 When you live anchored to a vice
 We poison ourselves and don't think twice
 About the consequence when the crutches feel so nice
 When we put band-aids on our bullet wounds
 We subtract good, add vice
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 Ah!
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 We poison ourselves and don't think twice
 About the consequence when the crutches feel so nice
 When we put band-aids on our bullet wounds
 We subtract good, add
 Subtract good, add
 Subtract good, add vice