Here's the thing with self-medicating

 You live for the highs, you die from the aching
 (Oh, how I enjoy the burn
 Once it's on there's no return)

 The rumours you've heard,
 each one is true
 The partying's excessive, the methods all but new
 (If it ain't broke, don't you fix it
 No goddamn advice from the backseat)

 Six-string razorcuts
 Afterparty clusterfucks
 Embracing the clichés, living the life
 Think fast, look alive

 These scars in my skin mark a time
 and a place
 A band of brothers,
 a punch in the face
 (And I refuse to regret these
 Fuck no, I refuse to regret these)

 Not about to slow down the pace
 To hold back would be a disgrace
 (Ain't getting any younger here
 Gotta get it all out before we disappear)

 Sex N' Satan baby