Shame is the engine that drives the addiction.
Your drug of choice is the fuel
Isolation's the oil that cuts down on friction
And denial makes the whole thing run cool.
Take away the denial and the engine overloads
Take away isolation, there's friction
Then the thing seizes up and you breakdown on the street
Where you see your whole life's been a fiction.
I know what the problem is
With these crazy mixed-up kids
It’s the drugs I heard him say
That makes these children act that way
If their parents only spent
Time with them like the Lord meant
Just an hour every night
Teaching them of wrong and right
Then I bet that you would see
Respect for life and property
And I bet you my last dime
That those kids wouldn’t waste their time
Mingling with human slime
The junkies, dealers, punks and thugs
The people who would sell them drugs
Like heroin.
Then he got into his car
I think it was a Jaguar
Long and sleek and low and green
A British luxury machine
And as he pulled away from me
I felt a pang of jealousy
I wished I had a car like that
Who’s namesake is a jungle cat
And then I thought of all he owned
The cars, the boats, the summer homes
Funny how we own that stuff
And still it’s never quite enough
Something deep inside our core
Cries out loud I must have more
Renunciation is for monks
We junkies sure do love our junk
Like heroin
From the ghetto to the heights
Everybody’s on the spike
From the inner city
To the burbs
Only one thing calms our nerves
We think if we have the cash
We will never have to crash
We think our financial gains
Will insulate us from all pain
So like the addict who will rob their folks
For one more hit of smack or coke
We rob the earth of anything
That we really think will bring
In money to buy things we own
That keep us in our comfort zone
And then we shake our heads and shrug
Don’t know why those kids turn to drugs
Like heroin.
The war on drugs is one sad joke
Do you think we’ll keep smack or coke
From coming into this great land
As long as money’s changing hands
Because a deeper disease haunts the soul
It’s powerful and very old
It’s believing that what you possess
Make you whole and safe and blessed
So when one drug lord is knocked out of place
A dozen rush in to fill his space
And no one ever give thought one
To the damage being done
Morality is put on hold
Consciences are bought and sold
And so it seems in times like these
Our souls are just commodities
Like heroin.