You can’t tell me it’s not my place to care,
but I won’t say a thing even though it hurts to stare
at [bad word] needle, shoot it up in your vein.
With that look in you eye, I guess you’re on the D-train.

With a black cloud over your bicep,
and that [bad word] s going to drag you down.
The lines that formed on your face
point straight into the ground.
There’s nothing more to discuss,
because my words won’t be so kind.
I can’t stand the site of you,
but I’d like to see you again sometime

not as a drone to your fear,
as it’s taking you away.
I boil in disgust,
and all that I can say is
“Just look at you,
and these things you do,
I can’t begin to think about
what your family’s going through.”
I see you choking, coughing, and puking.
It just doesn’t seem like it’s all that much fun!

Sadness!
Despair!
You can do better than that
but I guess you just don’t care.

Your pathetic choking and your puking
just doesn’t seem like it’s all that much fun!
And now I walk away.
I don’t need to stick around.
There’s nothing I can teach,
I’m not one to preach or watch you drag yourself into the ground!

There’s [bad word] anchor pushing up in your vein
and that [bad word] s going to drag you down.
I can’t stand the sight of you,
or watch you drag yourself into the ground!