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Wasting away,

On this island I've made,

Got it made in the shade,

Time, 

Is no concern of mine,

Drifting in and outta mind,

Tryin to leave it all behind,

In the distance they appear,

Rumbling softly into my ears,

Storm clouds now are getn near,

Things arent what they seem to be,

Look down deep inside of me,

Disillusioned in what I now see,

But I fret and tatter not,

For my sins in the substance got,

I inhale its fragrant rot,

Until the next time I will score,

I hear no thunder evermore,

Stopped the rain before the pour,

This junkies' life that I adorn.....