Well, Johnny left his life inside a vial,
he found unaltered life too much a trial,
so he ate the clear crystals,
and smoked them in a pistol,
but he failed to maintain his weapon, son,
yes, he failed to maintain his weapon, son,
Oh yeah,
and 40 years later
He found himself sucking off truckers
off route 95
his asshole, it puckers everytime a big rig passes by,
in his clear mind he'd rather die,
but the crystal monkey is on his back
his arms show the tracks
his lips are burnt, his flesh is scabbed,
but he'll never go to rehab, no,
no, He'll never go
And one day he'll pop his last balloon,
a day without vials is coming soon,
he'll be found blue and stiff,
his last hooker left a little miffed,
"Why could he get hard while he was living?
Some failures can't be forgiven," She will say,
as she counts his cash as she walks away,
Oh Johnny Methboy, will your last day be today?
Could your last day be today?
Oh, won't you make this you last day?