Toxicology Report

Pills for breakfast…
A Faith No More song and a fact of life… There's no way I'm going under the knife, unless I'm doing it like the guy at the end of Kichicku Dai Enkai. Me so sorry, b*st*rd master… Fill my bag up I'll spin the wheel faster. Give me goodies I'll even pet all your patients. With serenity and sentiment, all accidental experimental sentients. Come morning sun I'm still sucking on my gun to see if I can stay up another 15 hours.  Is it safe to cross the streams of withdrawal from opiates, treating with lithium and cymbalta… Set my nerves on fire a f*ck*n refill I deserve and desire… Benzos and vicodin don't get me wired. They make it possible to leave the house. My broken back and my dirty mouth. Road rage brights are blaring… f*ck you, who you think you're starin? Smash your f*ck*n face in fool. Knock out your f*ck*n teeth, you f*ck*n' tool. Just p*ss me off before my dose and I'm jumping through your driverside window… Oh now I'm calm the sh*t's kickin' in. I'm losing consciousness each time I stand. Cough every hit straight half to death, down the wrong pipe and I'm drowning, meth girls come and go and come and go, dope girls sleep all day u know? I hate this house of ill repute. If you're snortin' it, u might as well just shoot.