No Time - Battalion of Saints

He lives on a tightrope

The tightrope of life

Someday he’ll shake that rope

And fall out of life

Without

Thinking of tomorrow

Or the future to come

The things that he steals

For the rush that does kill

The needle in his vein

That takes away all his pain

For now

As he sits

Alone at home

The monkey that’s on his back

Is screaming for more

All he wants

Is to blow out his mind so he tries so hard

He loves the drug

He also hates the drug for the things that he does

There’s a hole

In his arm, that keeps calling his name

He has the spoon

And the rig

He clips the balloon

And pours it all in

Then it starts

The sweat starts to pour

When the target is finally made

The warm rush that starts

To fill in his brain with fear

He thinks he’s won

The final game

But it comes short

So he’ll try it again