Those tweeker´s hit the house last night
anything that wasn´t held down
A broken corner house plagued by a decade of users
A progression toward addiction
A doorway to crime
And they stand in withdrawl, hands trembling in their pockets
In the dirty doorway
Unwashed and street ready, swollen by their own drug hungry veins
light goes out of day
They hover in the doorway
empty bottles and dime bags
they plot to realize a strict enough fix
Soon stoned again and crazed
their limbs partly exposed tatoos and tattered shoes
Time demons dance over them
as dossile, they struggle to breathe during their dull euphoria
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