I'll watch the sun set from this sinking ship.
The tightrope's failing; Iâm a dead man walking
through the mind of a martyr without a belief,
Nothing to kill or die for; a casualty.
I love it so much, I hate it. I crave it, I need it.
They sent me a gift and I killed it. So now I beg
for the showing of mercy, admitting defeat.
All the threads of my life pull apart at the seams.
If I could give myself away, I wouldnât hestitate.
Aboard this sinking ship, I'm sailing to my grave.
If I could give myself away, I would leave everything.
I would leave everything to fate.
I think I'm alive, but what do I know?
I am feed for the wolves.
Oh, it's so easy to lie down and wait for the end.
And now the vultures are circling me
as I lie here still. But I'm not ready to bury myself.
Oh, I'm not ready to give all this up,
to live and die at the mercy of a needle or a pill, and for what?
I'm not giving a second thought to the vultures and animals,
It's the drugs or the freedom from it all.
So I beg for the wolves.