Look at you, what is it that you do Could it be you're hiding from yourself I look at your wasted life, I disaprove You can help yourself, but it's you that must choose Get that needle out of your arm If you want to die then that's a good head start
Too young to die Too young to die
Lying there in a drugged out haze Track marks creeping up and down your arms How can I soften what I try to say You hold your death in your hand
Too young to die Too young to die
A drug fogged haze your point of view How can you let yourself exist this way What would you do for a fix, my friend Could that be the sum of your life
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