Texty: The Lonely Forest. Opium Blues.

Nice suits and black shoes, everyone is cryin.
Now I think it's my time to slip away.
How I loathe this feeling.
On top of all the dying I think I need a new job, running out of money.
And my mom just phoned about the news.

It always seems that just as I
Build the strength enough to climb and fight
The trees they grow in and block my sight
And now I'm stuck here, with my darkest inner thoughts.

I pleaded and prayed to you
To come and take away
The voices and the choices that are bound to tear me limb from limb.
They told me that you hear in some other way
But if the answer is unknown, then why should I believe them when they say
That you're up there and you honestly do care?

Everyone is singing now about the God, the God of love.
But I don't feel it in my heart right now.
The comforting reassurance of a cause, but I want to believe...

It always seems that just as I
Build the strength enough to climb and fight
The trees they grow in and block my sight
And now I'm stuck here, with my darkest inner thoughts.

I pleaded and prayed to you
To come and take away
The voices and the choices that are bound to tear me limb from limb.
They told me that you hear in some other way
But if the answer is unknown, then why should I believe them when they say
That you're up there and you honestly do care?

Oh the opium blues inside my veins.
I've got the chemicals inside my head to blame.

The drugs do what the friends cannot.
Oh, I think it's my time to slip away...how I love this feeling!