Dust settles on a thin cloud
Sends a fog drifting to a worn out crowd
I've had my face in a mirror for twenty four hours
Staring at a line of white powder

High-priced madness pays the tab
I've scraped too much of nothing from your plastic bag
I'm a catatonic son of a [bad word] who's had
touch too much of white powder

And she's a habit I can't handle
For a reason I can't say
I'm in love with a wild white lady
She's as sweet as the stories say
White powder white lady
You're one and the [bad word] on down to my house won't you
And hit this boy again

Shock waves to a tired brain
Sends that hungry lady to my door again
She's my shelter from the storm when I feel the rain
Entertaining white powder

I feel I'm dry-docked and tongue-tied
Heaven sends a stretcher for the kids to ride
I might just escape while the others might die
Riding on a high of white powder