Sometimes I love it
Sometimes I hate
I'm pretty use to it
What do you think of it?

You know something?
We yell, we scream
We say nasty ol' things
To where we can't even dream

Hurts so bad when we fight
I'm sure it feels like hell
So I sit here and write
Locked up on my little cell

When we fight we runaway
So I sit here and cry
Cut our wrists, don't delay
Just sit and watch us die

We watch ourselves bleed
But yet we still fight
To stop is what we need
We need to make it right