By: Kharis Lund

My cocaine angel speaks to me
In psychedelic light
Bring forth visions of ecstasy
In moments that feel just right

My needles are all rusty
My veins, bruised purple-blue
But my white angel still sings to me
Through rolled-up dollar bill tubes

My cocaine angel speaks to me
In the rock and roll air
My reflection in the blank CD
Wild eyes, lift up a prayer

My cocaine angel still sings to me
As my mind and body roam
My hands shake, my chafed nose bleeds
And she violently carries me home