Potential Vice

I stole Father Time's clock and took out the grains, cooked 'em up, tied off, then shot it into me vein. And now I'm bleeding. I took Mother Nature's goods and ingested 'em whole, started trippin, lead to flippin, walkin lost in snow. So now I'm screaming. I got Farmer John's spuds put 'em in still, fermented fast, tastes like gas, now I'm guiding a wheel. My car is weaving. I grabbed Smith n Wesson steel, it tested nice and right, applied some pressure to the trigger, now it's gettin real tight. Goodbye I'm leaving.