Until The Lights Go Out

They tell you it's wrong,
but what do they know?
For you, no way of going on,
without that smoke you blow.

They say it's wrong, a sin,
though breathing's hard, impossible.
Inhale, exhale, about to win,
feeling as though above it all.

They ask you to stop,
but still your glass is full.
It's a habit you cannot drop,
there only were the strings to pull.

They shout at you, they plead.
Snorting, called as it's defined.
Why yes, an awful need,
when powder's white and lined.

They said it wouldn't hurt.
So young, afraid of it.
Now care to wear a short-sleeved shirt,
'cause all you need's another hit.

They say you'll live.
You'll look at them without a doubt,
say that's the answer you'd always give,
forever, 'til the lights go out.