There are no more razor blades,
My parents started locking the door to the garage
And I'm not allowed in the kitchen anymore.
They took my belts,
Hid my bootlaces,
And my guitar sits unstrung.
The medicine cabinet is locked,
My father finished his whiskey,
And the gas can and matches are locked in the garden shed.
No way to drown the pain.
No way to use it against myself.
So it rots.
And I decay.