A knife resting on my wrist
All it needed to make my blood flow  was a little twist
I was so close for the big step
And then you called
My phone made a ring
And the knife faltered
I smiled
For the first time you called
From our textchat to finally a voice message
But you told me you hate me
You wanted me to die
You finally said me good bye
And cut off the phone with a slam
A dark night got even darker
And then I got the irony
For me to die all you had to do was not to make the call
I tried again and again
But never found the same strength
Could never keep the knife on my wrist
Life is really a great irony
All you had to do was not call