Same Old Street
By... John Coffee
It's early Saturday and the end of the week
as I step out and feel the cold breeze touch my cheek
I walk down the street and it's two o' clock
Only lights on are the pharmacists on the block
The stuff they sell is not for the weak
The light of the street lights,
Darker then the space in between
Once again there is no rest,
Years of pain make the routine
I find my lighter and light my smoke
Realizing in this life there is no hope
What were once life's riches
mean nothing to me
I am the shadow in the dark
That no one stops to see
Maybe if I have the time to really think
Maybe one more pill and one more drink
It's early Saturday and the end of the week
I am walking and feel the cold breeze touch my cheek
I walk down the street and it's three o' clock
Tomorrow is Sunday, another week
I'll be here on the same old street....