One more please.

The hunger for one more

Can't be beat or outrun. 

The beast needs fed, 

And the bad thoughts need numbed. 

You always start hopeful. 

Like it's just the one. 

But the feeling 

Doesn't last 

And you always think 

Just another one. 

Just another hit. 

Fuk sleep. 

Fuk work. 

It won't heal the hurt. 

It won't change the past. 

But for a short while

Ill feel class. 

Doesn't matter how much I owe. 

Or how much tomorrow I'll feel low. 

The moment right now 

The beast needs fed. 

The finger hovers over the phone. 

And the nose already feels sore

From the past.