Dead souls reprising the hollowed echoes of my suicide
Thumping inside the tunnels, marking sudden genocide
Lonely families gather around, witnessing a terrible act unfold
All the husbands have no jobs, keeping the children shiver cold
Gaunt and pale, sleepy and overtired, clinging to me
Making me think of our future and fantasies
But unfortunately, all of those things can never be
Because all I want to do is hang myself from a tree
I don't want to think about you and me
I don't want you to call me when you think you need me
I don't want you to visit my house when you want to see me
I wish I was dead, but I guess I will lay here and sleep instead
Sleeping is less painful than having a bullet lodged into your head