A weak mind in search of pity His brain is erupting A young face ready to be betrayed Alone, depressed, internally destroyed He never tried to fight To discover his own life Now he's just a toy A toy one step from halt It's eleven o'clock His anxiety is great Only 30 minutes till madness arrives There's no mystery Ifs all routine He doesn't feel hunger, pain or love Almost midnight the high arrives The dose is strong His anxiety is great The needle relights the night It's midnight He's dead!