I got water on the brainnMy mind is like a drainnHere I go againnOver the hillnnMy eyes don't seem too clearnI'm not sure what I hearnIt seems I'm going clearnOver the hillnnLike a cripple and his crutchnI have leaned a bit too muchnSeems that I should never touch againnNow it seems it's plain to seenThat this stuff is killing menGot to quit, so, I'll be free againnnI got too much to losenNo one can fill my shoesnThink I'll leave the bluesnOver the hill