The Ending Story of My Life

I share a tent with three people I just met a day ago skid row I know my family wonders where I'm at How I could just pick up everything and leave like that I just felt that I've put them through enough hell already That I gave them enough of a story to tell already They no longer needed to see my pain And I no longer wanted to have to constantly explain That I'm an addict That something so tragic like heroin and I got to have it That I'd make deals for it and steal for it That I'm so sick that I know I would kill for it Up and down the avenue I roam And I cry every time I think of home These streets will roll you right back in Another lost soul here in Kensington And I've tried to make it out I tried to make sense of what my life is about But somehow life always brings me here for a visit and every time I never resist it I know my family will never understand That none of this was ever my plan But the needle that dangles from my arm is a misguided solution to my troubles To my struggles I know that one day on these streets I will die And I'm sorry for not having a chance to say goodbye Because I may not make it through the night So let this be the ending story of my life!