I am not a psychotherapist
But sometimes I think I'm just
******
And I give out therapies
Like I gave him too many tears

I ask all the questions
That no one wants to answer
In hopes that the truth will smack them
Open their eyes wide
Like it did mine

I listen to their answers
Testimonies of their pathetic attempts
To convince themselves of happiness
No one changes unless they want to
And quite frankly
Sometimes it feels good to hate and hurt
To convince ourselves that we're different when really
We're all the same

Tell me why you want to die
And I'll tell you not to
But this circle ends and begins with
You
I cannot save you
I can lend out a hand to your drowning soul
But you must decide to help yourself
And take it

I am not a psychotherapist
But I am a ****** therapist
I'll tell you to save yourself
While I number my days