I took the needle out of my arm about
A year ago today,
And every day since then Iâve been taking
The needle out of my brain.
So when Iâm staring down at my hands I canât explain
Just what it is that Iâm thinking of,
Except thank god that all my veins have to pump is my blood.
Iâve done you so much wrong I canât believe
You would still talk to me.
And I say so much bullshit I canât believe
That anyone around me can breathe.
I know that itâs a little dramatic,
But the word for not changing is âdeath.â
So Iâm getting better, my friends, but please donât hold your breath.
I met a man in rehab the first time,
An organizer in prison.
He lived in Chicago when the cops shot Fred Hampton,
But he was just a kid back then.
Justice doesnât flow from police guns,
Iâm reminded of that all the time.
As long as there is a law, peace will be a crime.
What the news calls economics,
I still call it violence.
If your god is a judge or a jailer,
Iâm still an atheist.
But I try to have faith in the things that will happen;
I get saved from myself when i do.
So maybe âgodâ isnât the right word, but I believe in you.