I can't believe this is about drug dealing, it's about Sheff himself: his life has no key, no plan, he's just doing what he loves, living life a day at a time. He criticises his song-writing for delving into other people's lives rather than his own (he's never earned his soul), and wonders whether he'll ever examine his own life properly (maybe when he's hosed and they're closing in - maybe at the end of his life).
A drug dealer doesn't do what he really likes - Sheff does, and he doesn't believe you'll find a happier man. He points to his band mate, a 'regal' man yet he travels with his bindle, an itinerant. They're living life exactly as they wish with no thought for tomorrow.
I believe he's been swallowing the drugs for so long that he actually believes all that bullpoop. He's convinced of it, which would be laughable if it weren't so sad.
I believe he's been swallowing the drugs for so long that he actually believes all that bullpoop. He's convinced of it, which would be laughable if it weren't so sad.
I can't believe this is about drug dealing, it's about Sheff himself: his life has no key, no plan, he's just doing what he loves, living life a day at a time. He criticises his song-writing for delving into other people's lives rather than his own (he's never earned his soul), and wonders whether he'll ever examine his own life properly (maybe when he's hosed and they're closing in - maybe at the end of his life).
A drug dealer doesn't do what he really likes - Sheff does, and he doesn't believe you'll find a happier man. He points to his band mate, a 'regal' man yet he travels with his bindle, an itinerant. They're living life exactly as they wish with no thought for tomorrow.
I believe he's been swallowing the drugs for so long that he actually believes all that bullpoop. He's convinced of it, which would be laughable if it weren't so sad.
I believe he's been swallowing the drugs for so long that he actually believes all that bullpoop. He's convinced of it, which would be laughable if it weren't so sad.