Sneak thief tore release,

The gold holds my soul to it,

The blood on my hands from which I can't quit,

I make high demands and they take my shit,

One of these days I'm going to get hit,

My father wanted this, but he wouldn't take the shot,

I was hot in the head, I hit myself instead,

A two by four won't put me on the floor,

No leverage from an appendage attached to the very thing,

That was condoning its own sinning,

That night I was winning, the wealth of my heat was not complete,

Five hundred dollars and hollers about a poker God,

I myself was awed, and yet didn't see the folly,

I thought I could control this crazy train, or trolley,

It went slow, but I went down pretty low,

I reap what I sow, this I know,

Five hundred bucks up, fifteen hundred down,

I end up looking in the mirror, and seeing a clown,

At least I still laugh, at myself the most,

But something fills feeling like an unseen ghost,

The most I can take, is the shit that I break,

When I make it up and drink the cup of life again,

I will seek a friend,

The gold was what killed me, I was sick and humiliated,

My head was the punishment, I couldn't hush it up,

It wouldn't shut up, it was sick,

I'd rather eat a dick than the way I felt like a prick,

Old sores opened up, the puss spilling,

In my brain self-loathing is drilling,

Filling me with shame, stilling the game and making hell,

Not so hot really, just a sick man delirious from the need to heal,

So I spoke up, again an impulse, this time planned ahead,

Just say the word, and forgiveness will come in its stead,

Back to my head again, the brain plays lame games,

I'm insane but not so deranged as not to see,

Just what it is, the poison inside of me.