| Black man comin' down the avenue
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| Arm shot full of holes, don’t know what to do
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| Goes to the doctor, says Doctor please
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| Just give me something to make the pains cease
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| Said I can’t do nothing about it
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| I’m so sick without it
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| I don’t want to talk about it
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| I can’t learn to live without it
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| Down to recovery where the psychos are kept
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| Ain’t no prisoners but they watch evey step
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| Down to the wires hooked up to your head
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| They push that button and you wish you were dead
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| Looks through the cobwebs all in his mind
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| Too many times he’s gone under the knife
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| It’s like a cancer that’s trying to kill
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| The more you feed it the worse that you feel
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| Cuts so cruel that fatal design
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| Once you’re connected you haven’t much time
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| Crystal and cobalt and feeling no pain
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| Then comes the darkness to feed on your brain
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| Said I can’t do nothing about it
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| I’m so sick without it
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| I don’t want to talk about it
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| I can’t learn to live without it
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| I can’t cope or strike out at it
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| I can’t get through the night without it
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| I can’t fight the finding out about it
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| I just wanna die without it |