Road

Eight long months on the road.
This is what I get for going pro.
You reap what you sow.
How could you have known
that the thing you want most
is the thing that will ultimately destroy  you?

Exhausted, I just want to sleep.
Too much to drink, slurred speech.
Transforming into an alcohol fueled monster after every show.
Lines off a mirror, ice cold snow.

Destroy your body to keep up with the pace.
Tab of acid, get me the hell out of this place.
Day tripping, high off my face.
Heart is skipping, pearly white gates.