Tell it to me quickly,
now tell it to me fast,
I\'m running out of time,
and these moments never last.
I\'m not hallucinating,
I\'m not turning this page,
until I find somebody
to justify my rage.
I\'m tired of your reasons,
I can\'t resist the urge,
I long for self-destruction,
my lungs to smoke and burn.
It was just a little detour,
a youthful soul\'s mistake,
not something brining cancer
to a man at twenty-eight!
Midnight, red light, skin tight,
and I\'m flying.
Clean days, no haze, life fades,
and I\'m mad.
Not broken, not bowed,
but I have no patience,
longing again for what
I must have.
You say to find a middle path,
but you\'re so full of it!
How can a man walk down a road
that never truly fit?
Never bought all your transcendence,
your talk of love and gods,
either I\'m truly missing something,
or it really is a fraud.
I guess I\'ll never know now,
you doctors say I\'m screwed,
you say slowing it all down
is the least that I can do.
So four months is what you give me
before my time to die,
but if that dark train is a-coming
it won\'t matter what I try!
Midnight, red light, skin tight,
and I\'m flying.
Clean days, no haze, life fades
and I\'m mad.
Not broken, not bowed,
but I have no patience,
longing again for what
I must have.