Sage Francis - Going Back To Rehab lyrics

[alphabetical list of drug streetnames] I'm going there to give him cash, hear him laugh, bring him back If I can't tear down these walls, I'll slip him through the crack. If that crack ain't big enough, I'm sick enough to get committed, Where he's been, I ain't been allowed to visit, and I miss him. They put me in a submission hold, got him living in a hole. Give me the rope, pull it back, cut him slack--he's getting old. This cold does nothing for his bones... he's shaking. Always put on hold, that prison phone's always taken They put me on a speaker but my voice is breaking up. I'd like to think he caught bits and pieces before the gates got shut. Raise it up! Somebody cover me, I'm going in, with razor cuts, and something ugly that I know within Can't afford the luxury of exposing everything, but I've been doing the best that I can. (that I can) I take it day by day, just one step at a time, and I don't need a sobriety test to walk the line Walking on this tightrope with arms open wide, hoping to find you live and well on the other side So I could give you this gift as a symbol When I felt the rope loosen, I knew I missed my window He really did love you, you know pat, pat, I said "Get your f**ing hand off my back" This is my pa**age into adulthood and I need not Smalltalk fingers fishing from a weak spot. I used to dream a lot In search for meaning in a sleepwalk The only time I find myself having a deep talk But now I never sleep 'cause sleep is the cousin of d**h One can never rest depending on how up the d** get Upset, submit me to a blood test Find no trace of my words reverting back to... wait, that wasn't what I meant My right eye is sunrise, the left is sunset, the moonshine ain't got me drunk yet My tongue's wet for the lunar eclipse, and when you're flat broke ain't nothing you won't do for a fix It's a beautiful mix of Jesus-Juice on my lips And words that are stuck so I stirred 'em up with a crucifix And this is where I found a friend in Christ But I also found a few spikes and I decided to use them as pegs on my bike So you'd have a place to stand when I broke you out of that vice And now I'm going back to rehab. (going, going, back, back to rehab) I'm going back to rehab... (going, going, back, back to rehab) I'm going back to rehab... (going, going, back, back to rehab) I'm going back to rehab... (going, going, back, back to rehab) (going, going, back, back to rehab) (going, going, back, back to rehab) I'm going back as a Dead-Again Christian, with a medicine prescription Yeah I'm a friend of Bill! Let-let-let me in! Get me outta this! Hooked up to plugs and wires while the dogs sniff for a powdered substance In a town of judgments with gla**-house developments Cookie-cutter Republican school-book intelligence They ain't never considered how just one rock, Could crack the whole facade, now they call the ski slingshots I will not meditate on the sermon Heaven's gate is burnin', so we self-medicate with bourbon While their collection plate gets turned into a purse I've turned into a second-rate person, but I'm not the first This isn't your typical cry for help I tried to melt, but someone stopped the trickling with a +Bible belt+ Reminded me of tourniquets and h**n nods Now that, that right there, that's one hell of a God You can't match magic with an addict that's got a mapping compa** In order to find a substance and matchstick that functions A searching and fearless immoral inventory 'Til every person with a story begins to bore me I did what I had to do to get To the place where your face wasn't such a blurry mess I packed all your favorite promises and words that we kept, You weren't hard to find, all it took was 13 steps. And now I'm going back to rehab... I'm going back to rehab... I'm going back to rehab... I'm going back to rehab... I don't drink though I'm going there to give him cash, hear him laugh, bring him back If I can't tear down these walls, I'll slip him through the crack. If that crack ain't big enough, I'm sick enough to get committed, Where he's been, I ain't been allowed to visit, and I miss him. Put me in a submission hold, got him living in a hole. Give me the rope, pull it back, cut him slack--he's getting old. This bitter cold does nothing for his brittle bones--he's shaking. Eternally put on hold, that prison phone's always taken Put me on a speaker but my voice is breaking up. I'd like to think he caught bits and pieces before the gates got shut. Raise it up! Somebody cover me, I'm going in, with razor cuts, and something ugly that I know within. Can't afford the luxury of exposing everything, but I've been doing the best that I can. I take it day by day, just one step at a time, and I don't need a sobriety test to walk the line. [continue alphabetical list of drug streetnames]