Dead white skin

A brown horse, with golden-brown mane

manic pressure on your veins

so strong a need - a needle so thin

it's calling you, it's cold, the enemy within

And I just feel as cold as ice

sharp as a blade, mute as a child

I feel so bad when I see you ride

that sick little brown line from that sad white bag

And when I see your face on dope

these times I know there was no hope

you hold the needle like a shining sword

and nothing matters anymore

You're wearing dead white skin

No face just dead white skin

dead lips, so dead-white clean

please, stop it, stop it, sister morphine

you can kill yourself if you want

but you won't be the only one

to fall back from the dead brown horse

I'll follow you - fix and rejoice !

And I just feel as cold as ice

mute as a blade, sharp as a child

I feel so bad when I see you ride

that sick brown horse in that sad white bag

that sad little white bag

that sad little brown line

sick sad bag back

we all fall down from the horse's back

And when I see your face on dope

these times I know there was no hope

you hold the needle like a shining sword

and nothing matters anymore

you can kill yourself if you want

but you won't be the only one

to fall back from the dead brown horse

I'll follow you - fix and rejoice !

you can kill yourself if you want

but you won't be the only one

to fall back from the dead brown horse

I'll follow you - fix and rejoice !