I wish I had my own quiet corner of the world
Where I could be my quiet self
And not have to think so much about
Where I left my head

when you speak,
colors drop from
your lips.
when i first met
you, my world
was so bright.
i think you
blinded me.
now all i can see
is black
and the world
isn’t beautiful
anymore

Africa my Africa
Africa of proud warriors in the ancestral savannah,
Africa my grandmother sings of
Beside her distant river
I have never seen you
But my gaze is full of your blood
Your black blood spilt over the fields
The blood of your sweat
The sweat of your toil
The toil of your slavery
The slavery of your children.

Africa, tell me Africa
Are you the back that bends
Lies down under the weight of humbleness?
The trembling back striped red
That says yes to the sjambok on the road of noon
Solemnly a voice answers me
"Impetuous child, that young and sturdy tree
That tree that grows
There splendidly alone among white and faded flowers
Is Africa, your Africa." It put forth new shoots
With patience and stubbornness put forth new shoots
Slowly its fruits grow to have
The bitter taste of liberty

I never knew,
it could hurt this much.
Feeling so lost,
and so out of touch.

I break the surface,
but get pulled back down.
My will to struggle,
fights my desire to drown.

Every day, it's tortured thoughts,
of memories we made.
Now I know, that they're all false,
and my sanity simply fades.

So now the question is the gun or pills,
the razor blade or rope?
Each day, the idea makes more sense,
as I'm slowly losing hope.

If I could just be thrown away,
what use could I be?
And if I see you with him,
I'll lose my sanity.

The dreams are the worst.
because they're still happy you see.
For just a moment, when I wake up,
you're still lying next to me.

Then the walls, come crashing down,
and the memories rush in.
I have to relive everything,
again, and again, and again.

Then it's once again the gun or pills,
the rope or razor blade,
as I traverse the life we built,
and the emptiness you made.

This could be purgatory,
or it really could be hell,
but if there is a difference,
then I simply cannot tell.

I just want the pain to end,
no matter what it takes,
because no one should have to live,
feeling they're a mistake.

I simply can't take it,
my heart hurts inside my chest.
I tried to be a good man,
but I failed to do my best.

So now it's just a choice,
I just have to choose the way.
I've finally found some happiness,
cause this pain will end today.

I'm Sorry