The Rooms

I walked out of the meeting
I caught the bus downtown
I lash out every time I feel disrespected
It's just an old excuse
(To throw myself under)
By the time I finally arrived
I'd made my decision
Everyone on Saint John's Ave
Was glad to see me back

Dig through the pile of lies
Dig through the charred remains
I'll go take out loans on the fucking last few things I own
And then I'll lock myself up in a Motel Six until I feel it

Chasing it back into rehab
Chasing it into a cell
Gonna trade my crack pipe
For a Blue Book
Circle around, repeat it
Whatever rooms I'm allowed in
(I can feel it now)
Whatever time I have left
I don't want to be there