The sadness that I feel,
I hope it shows itself to you.
And the pain that's in my eyes,
I hope to God you see it too.
Cause He knows as well as I do,
That I can't take much more;
My heart is growing tired and my limbs are getting sore.
All this constant climbing and the running back and forth;
Attempts to free myself from here,
Have done nothing of the sort.
It's sad to say, but must be said:
In truth it's I who wants me dead.
But you,
You're not so innocent,
In fact you're just as bad.
The gun pressed to my temple,
It's resting in your hand.
It's true I pulled the trigger,
But your bullet pierced my head.
The ****** thing sat there empty and un-lethal till your thoughts,
Filled the chamber one by one;
My life against the odds.