The Pharmacist
The medicine cabinet's empty,
There's nothing for my head.
Inside I'm made of concrete,
My eyelids feel like lead.
I'm feeling for a pulse,
But it's no use.
My head was screwed on tight now it's coming loose.
And I've been to the bottom of a bottle or two;
That shit just kept me down.
I'm sick of short cuts leave me on the ground.
Writer/s: ANDY NELSON, DAN YEMEN, DAVID WAGENSUTZ, DAVID ANDREW HAUSE
