when I wake up, I'm asking when will it end?
is it cowardly not too put a stop to my trend?
walking around unhappy, I'm not sad either
so many mixed thoughts, I need a teacher
to teach me the way of God, to die in his name
so I can rest in peace and not in vain
looking in the mirror, feeling dirty, but gotta face it
when, not if my memories fade can I take it
don't wanna be on that ghost hunters shit
I read being a ghost, your dammed kid
I try to think beyond this version of living
feel dead already and heaven and hell ain't delivering
so I try and feel things through like a mime
I know life ain't perfect, but the boo's feel sublime
enough to end it all tonight thrusting a knife
don't try and deter, no truth in trusting human kind
the only thing stopping me the fact my mom's here
the heart ache of losing love creates fear
so here it is, if I were to slit my wrist properly
I'd look at the sky, hoping Heaven'll drop on top of me