6. Medicine

He's been on his medicine
Trying to keep his grin
Trying to keep his friends

He's been on his Ritalin
Trying to make a mend
Trying to free from sin

I won't get outta the way
I'd rather take your place
I won't get outta the way
I'd rather take the blame
and be lost in the memory

You made your mind
Planned your plan
To take your life and leave it behind
You told me how
Plan to steal
Your father's gun you'd cure your mind
Oh what do I do?
Who do I tell?
Before all hell breaks loose
You son of a bitch
It better be a lie
For I won't ever say goodbye
Please don't die