Commercial Success

by Bad Habits Die Hard

In these never ending halls
stretching out so far
I keep playing my music
Shredding out on my guitar

I just need the music
My ears continue to bleed
I just need my drugs
Especially my weed

I need my drugs to continue on
To have my legs keep moving
I need some people to like my music
To know that I'm improving

These people have no idea
To know exactly whats its like
To be on stage in front of them
To have your head on a spike

They constantly heckle you
Screaming for something better
You cannot help but care
Thats when you write your suicide letter

I've already written mine
I'm smart, I came prepared
Now death embraces me
My senses completely impaired