These walls are always cold
Colder are the window panes
But coldest are the hands that feed
Those wicked little pills
They give me intravenous dreams
of a world I'll never breathe again
The white coats on their ward
Their calculating stares
Even they believe in miracles
They just have ways of explaining them
The most dangerous luxuries
My freedom and my sanity
Now I have learned
The saddest words that any man can say
Are I used to be