This Is Not Exactly In My Wheelhouse But…

by Noise Pollution

I wrote a song in a more theatrical, musical style than I usually do. It is a song about a man addicted.

What a move,
what a magnificent stride
towards the future
what a fantastic align-
-ment of stars
I can taste the drip
deep inside of my lungs
you can call it a problem,
but nothing compares to the drug.

I felt down, I’ve felt up
I’ve felt right, I’ve felt… fucked,
I’ve felt awkward at times
when I’ve forgotten my lines
but as long as you’re mine,
this addiction it shines
right through you,
and I do
not need you
I’ve felt low, I’ve felt high
I’ve hello’d, I’ve goodbye’d
I’ve been in all sorts of states,
and all out of sorts
I’d beg you to stay,
with a witty retort,
my one true love,
but nothing compares to the drug.

and a divine intervention
would save me for
a solid weekend
so I can see them
but the world, it’s a wreck
you’re all ghosts, you’re all… dreck!
shambling down the streets
ghoulish countenance glossing over me
so for all of your efforts
I’ve only gone numb,
I swore I’d stay sober,
but nothing compares to the drug.

now it’s dark, in my heart
there’s no scar, there’s no mark
just a rattling husk of a man
but this was always a part of the plan
I came first, I came last
I kept running, far past
the finish line
so finish mine
there’s no warmth, there’s no love
there’s no god there above
and I only wanted to be
anyone else but me
and I wish that I was still young
but nothing
no nothing!
oh, nothing compares to the drug.

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