Dark Coke

Песню можно послушать по ссылке:
https://youtu.be/Zhh6Yn-bGoA

[Intro]
Cocaine is dark power.
Fine white powder.
It’s worshiped like an ancient carpenter,
But in reality, it’s eating you from within like a hungry caterpillar.

Your values of life become very little.
Your soul will forever boil in a cast iron kettle,
Filled with hot oil.
Your body will eventually end up in an unknown grave in dirty soil.

[Chorus]
Cocaine is the dark power.
Fine white powder.
It’s lost Camelot,
You might gain a lot,
But you’ll lose a lot more.

[Hook]
Dark power - white powder

[Verse 1]
A homeless kid pulled off the street,
Raised by foster parents who make you do stupid errands.
Their fake feelings have no meaning.
Even if you jump over your head, you still cannot walk on a ceiling.

Streets are your only true home. Over there, you are never alone.
With your childhood friends you gather in street gangs.
Kids’ groups are like organized soldier troops.
Like a giant python, they quickly tighten their heavy loops

Around lost souls, which add up to the groups' growth.
Open your mouth, and thousands more will cry out loud In in-sync chaos.
They have no fathers and no mothers.
Group conscience—that’s what only matters, and maybe some songs of Marshall Mathers.

In these tender ages, they are so careless,
Willingly inviting white death in their airheads,
Daydreaming in absolute loneliness,
Enjoying their last overdose poison kiss...

[Chorus]
Cocaine is the dark power.
Fine white powder.
It’s lost Camelot,
Where you can gain a lot,
But you can lose a lot more....

[Hook]
Dark power - white powder

[Verse 2]
If you survived all that
And you’re still dealing with poison without any regret,
You are a slave to your doomed fate—
'Cause this is the beginning of the end.

From a bullet on a routine nightstand,
Or from a sudden drug bust
Caused by your friend’s broken trust,
You’ll end up in prison,

Where your survival has no reason.
Where fistfights are an everyday occurrence—
In the evenings and in the mornings.
On pizza, there are no toppings.

On filthy cakes, there is no frosting—
Maybe just noxious rat droppings.
You’ll never see gifts in Christmas stockings.
All your belongings will be thrown into the hallway,

Mixed with many others from your neighbor inmates.
Pictures of your first dates,
Memories of your free days—
To the jail, they’re all worthless.

The silence of your cellmates
Will feel worse than the one in The Silence of the Lambs.
If you decide to step out of your jail cell,
Beware of a nine-inch nail— a real threat

You’ve never known, never met.
It’ll be stuck between your ribs.
Swallow screams of agony and fallen tears.
You’ll see no one when your eyesight clears.

Under the weight of all this stress,
Your head will be a total mess.
There are no nursing maids to ease your pains.
I’m not amazed

That nights all look like days—
Filled with noise and bloody stains
On your clothes and on your face.
The smell of mace in your nose,
Hands behind your back,

Cold water from a firetruck hose—
That’s your five-minute shower.
The jail will devour
With teeth made out of steel cage.

You become an animal
On a cruel circus stage.

[Verse 3]
Let’s stop now and turn the page.
Let’s remember what you were like before you got here—
'Cause the end of your life is very near.
Cocaine made you a liar,
A forgotten father the kids won’t admire.

On sunny days in the park alley,
You used to walk your dog,
While your daughters stayed with a nanny.
You used to live a beautiful life,
Sharing everything with an even more beautiful wife.

Where is it all now?
You burned it all through a pipe and spat it out.
This is the final round
Of the fight where you’re not a winner.

At night, with a rope on your neck,
It’s hard to keep your mind clear—
The smell of fear,
Shaky knees—you feel it, the end is near.
You must go straight—don’t even think to steer.

Shattered legs of a wooden chair,
Your body’s hanging free...
But your soul will never be in heaven.
If you meet your friends in hell, then tell them:

Life is more precious than melting rocks in your home cellar.
It’s not worth it to sell drugs on a street corner.
‘Cause...
Right now,
Your mommy
Is crying
In front of
Your coffin.
[Outro]
Dark power - white powder