Black Label Society

drinking, drugged up, completely shot to hell
left behind, aint nothing left to sell
oh, aint nothing left to sell
the hatred of your blood
so tortured, so insane
dead ends, lost hope
keep running through your veins
oh, running through your veins
ohhhhhhhh
So high, and then I fell
ohhhhhhhh
Can't stop the ringing of my funeral bell
The loss of one's self
Inside the wheel of doom
Genocide is coming way too soon.