The blade...its calling you isn't it?
That sirens song.
Those few drops of blood.
Red crimson spilled on a white floor
Or maybe the bitter taste of metal
The clank against your teeth
One bullet will do the job
A moment of pain and its all gone
Or perhaps a few pills
And a little alcohol are your weapon of choice
Seems painless enough
What a coward you are
If your going to end it all do it right
Make it hurt
Make it sting
Make yourself feel
Push the blade in a little deeper
Put that gun where you know it will take time
Take just enough pills to slowly make you fade away
Feel the pain
Feel that and know the hurt you will cause
After all...
Aren't you doing it because you think no one cares
You want that reaction
You want to see the look on their face
And know you've finally won.
Maybe you will get lucky
Maybe you will see the look on their face
Just as you are fading away
So press that cold metal against your rotting flesh
Take another drink
But know that you better make it good
Because that's the last thing you will ever feel.