He's knocking at the door again that hooded man trying to sell me death I told him I have nothing left but he's running a sale on last breaths. I'm intrigued but it's 3 in the morning and I'm strung out on meth hydrocodon, gin, and weed. I'm pale as a ghost he says I'll fit right in He says “don’t worry bout it man it ain’t a sin if you're depressed and I know you are I can see it in your eyes your handsome eyes ...