Weeping Sores

Addiction's a son of a bitch Face the daylight I've said it a thousand times Isn't it obvious? Something has got to change The discontent that manifests represents The perfect fuel to reignite the passions That serve only to preserve you Yet still you extinguish the pilot light The less you do in life, the more you tire of it Yet narcotic escapades prove only to disconnect Isn't it ironic? Consumption instigates pain Those vacuous formed habits prove only to disconnect Addiction's a son of a bitch And you are the surrogate Gorge on the agony Rend apart those weeping sores Time's up you coward Years of shifting blame and running blind catch up to you You can't escape the disdain Debilitated by past actions, tainted Crushed by the weight of your vice Intoxicated with pain Time's up, you coward The less you do in life the more you tire of it Yet narcotic escapades prove only to disconnect Addiction's a son of a bitch And you are the surrogate Descendant of failure Offspring of misery Gorge on the agony Rend apart those weeping sores Rend apart those weeping sores Rend apart those weeping sores