The Junkos are at my door again.
Banging it down for the man.
Trying to fill the needle.
Their golden arms itching again.
And to ask for weed in the same breath.
Their desperation is my death.
I still believe they fake it.
But they still need to take until there is nothing left.
I'm putting my foot down.
Fuck a burnt spoon, and a dream.
Today the junkies I will not feed.
- Josalisa
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