I don't know what hurt me,
So badly that I cannot open up.
I don't know the exact moment,
When I felt life was just too much.

I couldn't tell you whatever happened,
That made me feel dead inside.
But I can tell you a needle and pills,
Makes my mask slip away and hide.

I don't know when it became so important,
For me to lose my sobriety,
And God, I couldn't begin,
To explain why I hid from society.

I'm so done with living in this world,
But the drugs just won't let me die.
I need some serious help,
But I don't know how to ask for it tonight.

I know the ****** or morphine or whatever the ****,
I put into my veins each day,
Keeps me feeling normal,
And keeps me slightly sane.

I know I'll never hear the voice of my father,
Or be able to show my mother the love she deserves.
I know my younger brother,
Will one day wonder what killed me so many years before.

I'd like to say I'm sorry,
To the girl I love with all my soul.
I'm oh so sorry baby,
But I shall never, ever become whole.

You'd be better off without me,
Just like my parents had I never been born.
Perhaps my father may still be living,
Perhaps mother may have never needed to mourn.

I'd like to say I'm sorry,
That there is no reason for my living death,
However, long ago I swear,
I thought by twenty one my heartbeat may have left.

So I suppose I'm sorry,
That any of you ever needed to meet me.
And I am so very sorry,
That I lived through the needle that should have let death be.