Lying in a bed,
But it's not my own,
All I can think about,
Is wanting to go home,
But it's come too far,
It's beyond repair,
And so I tell them,
'Please end my despair,'
I close my eyes,
They pull the plug,
It seems my grave,
Has just been dug,
Away I drift,
Away I fade,
And now to rest,
I can be laid.
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 12:51 AM UTC
Lying in a bed,
But it's not my own,
All I can think about,
Is wanting to go home,
But it's come too far,
It's beyond repair,
And so I tell them,
'Please end my despair,'
I close my eyes,
They pull the plug,
It seems my grave,
Has just been dug,
Away I drift,
Away I fade,
And now to rest,
I can be laid.