Sprawled face down on this swiss stained iron bed In a dismal cheap hotel With my one arm injured and the sweat-stained billowous murk From my last cold-turkey attack
I tremble and shiver at the sound outside my door Instrument of release by my side The spike, the hose, the blackened spoon The can or sterno red
I wait And I wait Spread-eagled Half dead
Waiting for my man (x8)
I wait for my fit, the footsteps fall For the black man's stacatto knock knocking I wait he doesn't show I wait he doesn't show I wait he doesn't show
Get this monkey off my back Get this monkey off my back Get this monkey off my back Get this monkey off my back Off my back Off my back Off my back