Calendar Material

I'm planning a relapse: 
Now where shall I start? 
NA is a bunch of brainwashable farts 

They want I get clean? 
Ha, then more fool are they 
If they think I won't use, 
Or expect me to pray. 

Desire for the needle 
Runs deeper than death 
And ME, be a sponsor?! 
I've already left. 

The literature's boring 
Those cards make me yawn 
A cult run by fools 
Who forgot they were born 

So pass me the citric 
I'll fill up the spoon 
It bubbles like lava 
This can't come too soon 
Don't be sad! I'm a junkie: 
What did you expect? 
Hell, no one controls me 
It ain't no defect. 

So bite off the filter 
And drop it in quick 
If you think I do wrong, 
Hell, what's wrong with YOU, prick? 

Feel the warmth through the pin 
As I tap out the bubbles 
And there was you: think 
I was glad for your troubles? 

Do you honestly think 
That I wanted to change? 
Hell, I'll pick up the drink 
With the pavement my stage 

And I'll rant to nobody 
And curse through the trucks 
Til I'm drowning in vomit 
And don't give a fuck 

I'm the sun I'm the moon 
I can't play a new tune 
I'm the heart of the matter 
Bilateral schmatter 

When push comes to shove 
And I stick in the pin 
Will you lecture your concepts 
And theories of sin? 

And the brown liquid sinks 
And its sting feels like love 
As I draw back and plunge in 
Illusions in blood 

And I hope it was worth it 
As I close my eyes 
Is this real? Is this me? 
Ahhh, the junkie surprise.