Me and my dope buddy

I call him on the way to town
and he's always there for me
when I need him.
My dope buddy.
I always buy his shit too.
I kick myself in the ass every time
cause I can get twice the dope
but I always give him half.
He expects it now.
It's kind of like a payment.

So, I make my order and go to
his house where it's dropped
off just like a pizza.
Then we hide ourselves in his room.
The ceiling fan makes the light
flicker as I look at that pretty
brown dope layed out on the table.

He puts his in the spoon
and I lay mine out in a line.
I watch him as he tries so
goddamn hard to find a vein
but it's nearly impossible after
all these years.
When he does, all I hear is the
sweet sigh of relief.

Then here I am squatting on my
knees and I put the straw up to my
nose, bend my head down and
I gag from the taste running down
the back of my throat.
THAT is when you know it's good dope.
When it makes me throw up.

I fall to my ass and we look through
the channels and turn it to the Steve
Wilkos Show and laugh at the people
with all their fucking problems.

Maybe there should be a camera
in this room.