No Time (Battalion of Saints)

He lives on a tightrope The tightrope of life Someday he'll shake that rope And fall out of life Without Thinking of tomorrow Or the future to come The things that he steals For the rush that does kill The needle in his vein That takes away all his pain For now As he sits Alone at home The monkey that's on his back Is screaming for more All he wants Is to blow out his mind so he tries so hard He loves the drug He also hates the drug for the things that he does There's a hole In his arm, that keeps calling his name He has the spoon And the rig He clips the balloon And pours it all in Then it starts The sweat starts to pour When the target is finally made The warm rush that starts To fill in his brain with fear He thinks he's won The final game But it comes short So he'll try it again