At the deep end of my street
Where dreams and dream killers meet
At the bottom of the slope
Where the fun of falling’s over (yeah it’s over)
Gone means something different
Than it did a few years back
Loss is just another of the ghosts
That you meet at the basement every night
Where you go to fill the holes
Deep inside your soul
Where you go to be
Sad and stoned
Sad and stoned
Sad and stoned
In most of the bars uptown
Where you’re comfortable enough to be
Where the lawyer girls and boys
Shine as brightly as their diamonds after work
I become a spider
And I catch them
In my web of charm
I will poison
Their obsession
With the notion
Of being something more than this
And I’ll use them and be gone
Leaving just hole
And they’ll go home to be
Sad and stoned
Sad and stoned
Sad and stoned
Third floor of the orange building
It’s a dirt street you can’t miss it
Where the trash piles up again
A black haired kid totes a .38
Gone means something different
It means almost nothing at all
We’re all nameless
At the bottom
We’re all faceless
We just don’t matter anymore
So we need to fill the holes
Of our bodily decor
Where we need to be
Sad and stoned
Sad and stoned
Sad and stoned
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