Routine, again, yeah I'm back
just sittin' here on the train tracks.
Nothing changes, it's all the same,
we're all stuck in the same old game.

Just yesterday I had a purpose,
the meaning of life, fresh and focused.
Today it's gone, snatched away in a flash
what I wanted most, vanished with a crash.

A bottle, cradled in one hand,
the other a .44
Two more shots and it's over,
gone forever, out the door.

Maybe it's all an illusion,
and I'm here in mental seclusion.
I don't think I can feel real again,
surrounded by bulls in a savage bullpen.

Someone shoved the world in my mouth,
so I ground my teeth and bit.
Today I gagged and spat it out,
I'm tired and done with this fake shit.

A bottle, cradled in one hand,
the other, a .44
Two more shots and it's over,
gone forever, out the door.