Time feels meaningless

It's Saturday morning    
barely 8:24 and all I can think about is more  
soul nectar  
bass water  
This feeling I'm after has led me to this disaster  
and whats more is that I can't remember anymore  
   
I look at myself and try to climb back into my own body    
but it's too late  
Everyone of those little mistakes adds another lock to the gate    
I manage to slip a foot in, through the eye up to my ankle    
that's as far as it will go in though  

I've turned myself into an obelisk for this  
slowly and surely the drugs they have turned me  
Not completely but if we're talking and you do catch a glimpse of the real me    
try to grab it  
they've been so fleeting lately    
fleeing  
I'm the one that hurts me the most  
and now i've become my own ghost  
one body  
ten people  
it's communion without the steeple  
While the poor boy we've taken over wonders why his nights grow colder  
   
So innocent so sweet  
until that night chance had us meet  
You made him feel alive  
showed him another side to the cruelties of life  
Suddenly he didn't need to hide  
liquid courage  
overwhelming confidence    
an amplified euphoria he feels it coursing deep inside  
Then you left him with kiss on cheek  
not to speak to him for many a week  
laughing because you know when you next meet  
you'll be there to sweep that naive sweet boy off of his feet  
   
He has a life, school, a girlfriend  
let's pick a different one this boy's is going to be no fun  
No. we're committed, it's already begun.  
   
Looking at this boy from above I can't remember fun.  
I don't remember a time when I didn't have to hide and then spend the rest of the day concealing what I felt inside.  
   
I don't remember a time when my purpose in life was not to get high  
   
Now lets not demonize these recreational botanicals  
I still get chills from the last time I 'medicated' with pharmaceuticals    
with a little creativity lots of things can be use for shifting  
But I think the real question is why is it the boy was drawn to this affliction.    
drawn or driven?  
it's irrelevant for now with this comfort he is smitten    
   
He tries to push us out but we keep away the doubt  
 besides  
he doesn't believe he can ever be clean  
when we're with him the world has a certain sheen    
It's like everything tries to hurt you when you have a go at getting clean  
   
So it looks like it's you me and the boy  
I'll bring the van around and unload the others,  
we'll be here a while if I have my druthers  
   
I tried to explain what the addiction said  
but it's a fucking symphony inside my head