A Junkie's Paradise.

What does paradise mean to a junkie on the street?
Is it Caviar &,Champagne, laying down on satin sheets,
Is it basking in the midday sun on an island far away?
Well if you asked me this question ,then this is what I'd say,
"Youcan keep your shiny diamond's, you can keep your sand and sea,cause they're just material things and they don't mean f*ck all to me, you can keep your Caviar &,Champagne, keep your satin sheets, you can't lay down in a bed at night when ya living on the streets"
Well .my idea of paradise is a roof above my head,
And to open up my eyes each day and find that I'm not dead,
It's the thought of no cold turkey and always being calm,
Cause paradise you crave just like a needle in your arm,
And it's never needing gear,cause they give it to you free,
There's no sweats,no shakes, no agony, this is paradise to me,
It's not losing my three children and it's watching as they grow,
And it's having the strength when offered Smack to turn and tell em no,
It's a Crack pipe with a rock upon it any time you need,
You imagine never going without that's Paradise indeed,
But it's winter, cold and windy and a warm room has it's price,
So I'm huddled in my doorway, it's a junkie's paradise.