Happiness is a warm gun
I need a fix because I’m going down.
Down the the pits, I left uptown.
On the verge of a mental breakdown,
Only the effects of the comedown.
It’s the high that’s guilty of stealing my frown
Study the crash after, it’s quite profound
Stuck there alone, with no one around
When dark overtakes, I hear no sound.
Floating in space, I’ve lost my ground.
I wish I could turn, have life rewound,
To escape this depressive rebound.
So why is happiness a warm gun?
It’s finally been used, it is done.