[Verse 1] He can't sleep, got his jaw locked tight in the blue TV glow, Ashtray full, stress high, so he burns another one slow. Some chase whiskey till the room starts leaning sideways, Some need needles just to make it through their Fridays. One guy's crushing powder off the back of his hand, Another's breaking glass pipes saying, "I got a plan." Pills in the medicine cabinet slowly become religion, Trading temporary peace for a lifelong prison. Some disappear inside a bottle of regret, Some gamble rent money on a long-shot bet. Some hide in anger, fists clenched, seeing red, Some let depression pull the blankets over their head. Addiction's a language, everybody speaks it different, Some scream it out loud, some keep the pain hidden. Everybody's got a demon wearing somebody else's face, Everybody's got a habit they use to numb the taste. [Pre-Chorus] What do you run to when the silence gets violent? What do you hold when your head gets too loud? We all got something keeping ghosts in confinement, Different roads but they all lead down. [Chorus] Some need smoke in their lungs, some need liquor in veins, Some need a chemical rush just to quiet the brain. Some need love for a night, just to feel something's alive, Everybody's got a reason, everybody's got a vice. I don't touch bottles, don't need powder or lines, But I still chase distractions just to outrun my mind. Sleepless, eyes open, searching through the neon lights... Vices. [Verse 2] Mine ain't found in a shot glass sitting on a shelf, Mine's in chasing affection to avoid facing myself. Heart racing like a piston, dopamine ignition, Temporary connections, counterfeit prescriptions. Late-night texts, fake names, another empty conversation, Trying to fill a crater with physical validation. Attention is addictive, that's a hell of a drug, Getting high off being wanted, then forgetting who it was. Some worship money till their souls get sold, Some work themselves to death chasing silver and gold. Some get lost online in a digital escape, Scrolling through perfection while their real life decays. Funny how pain mutates and changes its shape, One man's syringe is another man's chase. Different poison, same void, same ache inside, Different masks, same monster we keep trying to hide. [Pre-Chorus] What do you run to when the silence gets violent? What do you hold when your head gets too loud? We all got something keeping ghosts in confinement, Different roads but they all lead down. [Chorus] Some need smoke in their lungs, some need liquor in veins, Some need a chemical rush just to quiet the brain. Some need love for a night, just to feel something's alive, Everybody's got a reason, everybody's got a vice. I don't touch bottles, don't need powder or lines, But I still chase distractions just to outrun my mind. Sleepless, eyes open, searching through the neon lights... Vices. [Bridge] Pick your poison, pick your cage, Different chapters, same old page. Dopamine drips through damaged veins, Everybody's trying to medicate pain. Some drown slow, some burn bright, Some disappear into the night. No saints here, no wrong or right... Vices.
