I am an addict. I have allowed myself to be consumed by his addiction. I feel so alone, yet I am not, as we are all touched by this disease. This is my story. This is my art. This is my therapy. This is my life.
Take Me In Your Arms: Miss Heroin
So now, little man, you’ve grown tired of grass
LSD, goofballs, cocaine, and hash,
and someone, pretending to be a true friend,
said, “I’ll introduce you to Miss Heroin.”
Well honey, before you start fooling with me,
just let me inform you of how it will be.
For I will seduce you and make you my slave,
I’ve sent men much stronger than you to their graves.
You think you could never become a disgrace,
and end up addicted to poppyseed waste.
So you’ll start inhaling me one afternoon,
you’ll take me into your arms very soon.
And once I’ve entered deep down in your veins,
The craving will nearly drive you insane.
You’ll swindle your mother and just for a buck.
You’ll turn into something vile and corrupt.
You’ll mug and you’ll steal for my narcotic charm,
and feel contentment when I’m in your arms.
The day, when you realize the monster you’ve grown,
you’ll solemnly swear to leave me alone.
If you think you’ve got that mystical knack,
then sweetie, just try getting me off your back.
The vomit, the cramps, your gut tied in knots.
The jangling nerves screaming for one more shot.
The hot chills and cold sweats, withdrawal pains,
can only be saved by my little white grains.
There’s no other way, and there’s no need to look,
for deep down inside you know you are hooked.
You’ll desperately run to the pushers and then,
you’ll welcome me back to your arms once again.
And you will return just as I foretold!
I know that you’ll give me your body and soul.
You’ll give up your morals, your conscience, your heart.
And you will be mine until, “Death Do Us Part”