A junkie is a lonely man,
Searching for peace of mind.
No matter how many dope dens he visits each day,
Peace he just cannot find.
Hey, lil’ junkie boy,
Do you know what’s in store for you tomorrow?
Will it be sunshine and flowers,
Or will it be pain and sorrow?
Hey, man, come out of that nod,
And stop scratching like a hound.
Is that what it makes you do,
After you’ve gotten down?
That old monkey’s acting up again.
Got you all but climbing the walls.
Day after day, the same routine—
Searching through piss-stenched halls.
Don’t turn that corner—Watch out! Beware!
Or you might end up behind bars.
You gotta be swift, always on your toes,
Ducking them police cars.
Man, I’m telling you—sure is rough.
A junkie sure catches hell.
Robbing, mugging—next thing you know,
He’s locked in some cold, lonely cell.
That’s when that monkey really starts clowning,
Starts pulling at your guts.
And a shot of relief is beyond your reach,
And it’s starting to run you nuts.
You’re looking for pity from the cell next door,
But brother, you get none there,
Cause he’s down for murder, facing twenty to life,
Or he may wind up in the chair.
Your mom is really worried about you, but she can’t help you now.
Your life is in the hands of the Man.
She tried her best to steer you right,
But you just couldn’t understand.
All she can do now is say a little prayer,
And leave it in the hands of the Lord.
Cause they’re taking you away from the folks that you love,
And handing you to a prison guard.
Now you’re all alone in a sea of fools,
Where no one gives a damn.
Now you’re faced with the fight of your life,
To try and stay a man.
Now you’re thinking, if you had only listened
To what dear old mother had to say,
You might not be so deep down in trouble,
And grieving this-a way.
If you were smart, you’d have stayed in school,
And got yourself a decent job.
Instead you thought you were slick,
And went out and stole and robbed.
Gee, you hope that grocery man lives.
Please, Lord, don’t let him die.
Cause then you’d be facing murder one,
And can kiss tomorrow goodbye.
Your mind flashes back to your home sweet home,
Where you left your poor wife and child.
You’re praying somehow that they’ll be all right,
Cause you won’t be home for quite a while.
Your mind flashes back to the very first time
When you stuck that first point in your arm.
Little did you know that was the mistake of your life,
And that it would end up on a prison farm.
Now you say a prayer that little brother takes heed,
And prospers from your mistake.
And listens to Mom, and takes the right road—
That don’t lead to these prison gates.
The guy in the next cell is looking at you
With a maniac look in his eyes.
The guard at the gate is taking a break,
There’s no one to hear your weak cries.
So you gotta be tough, ready to take a life
For fear of losing your own.
You curse out loud—but under your breath.
Asking God why in hell you were born.
The young bucks come a-skipping and a-jumping,
But Lord knows that they won’t last long.
Soon they gonna wish they was a baby boy,
Snug safe in their mother’s arms.
Hey, see that lil’ boy, you know him good.
As a matter of fact, he’s from your neighborhood.
You know his folks, you know his mother dear.
Oh, it would hurt her heart to see what’s happening here.
To see him hip-walking down the streets on his turf,
You’d think that he was Killer Joe.
But I see him now, meek as a lamb,
Trodding through that sugar-cane row.