In my pockets full of rubbish,
Wacky wreckage, it's so foolish.
I'm afraid of losing hooks
That keep me in to the books.
I'll get dirty sleeves in glue
To make your smile become true.
All my happiness is flotsam,
All my drugs is only jetsam.
I would like to be free,
oh, me, so me...
I would like to get high,
not hurt, not to cry...
I would like to be free,
oh, me, so me...
flotsam and jetsam.
I have gained a lot of words,
Ragged pages and forgotten chords.
Memory creates silly dreams,
A minute's joy is libido's scream.
Strange shadows in the hallway
Facing me down every Monday.
I need to get rid of this stuff,
For not to become dirty chuff.
I would like to find
Something for wake.
I would like to get blind
For all who take
me wrong and now
I'm coming to stairs,
Which will lead me away
And plague doc will cares...
