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I THINK I FOUND YOUR RUIN

For the gig whore, with worn out licks, who never practises,
who really was mediocrity, under the mask of pretended professionalism.

Smokin' dynamite
And drinking TNT
Empty pockets
Keep you in misery
Forgetting to remember
And remembering to forget
You must be
Sick 'n' tired
Of being sick 'n' tired

I think I found what you're doing
I think I found your ruin

Prescription drugs
Prozac smile
Glee of insanity
Staggering the mile
Psychiatrists got your soul
You're a vacant lot
Doctor's his henchman
In this evil plot

(Hook)

Endless excuses
Victim role
Waking up later
In a filthy hole
Quick fix of chump change
Worn out shabby tools
Druggie casualty (hopeless loadie)
Surrounded by fools

(3 types of people in life etc.)

Wake up in the morning
Feeling like death
World screaming for money
All you got
Is dog's breath