It was in the March of the winter I turned seventeen
that I bought those pills I thought I would need.
And I wrote a letter to my family.
Said, "It's not your fault and you've been good to me.
Just lately I've been feeling like I don't belong;
like the ground's not mine to walk upon."
And I've heard that music echo through the house
where my grandmother drank by herself.
And I sat watching a flower as it was withering.
I was embarrassed by its honesty.
So I'd prefer to be remembered as a smiling face,
not this fucking wreck that's taken its place.
So please forgive what I have done.
No, you can't stay mad at the setting sun,
because we all get tired, I mean eventually.
There is nothing left to do but sleep.
But spring came bearing sunlight;
those persuasive rays.
So I gave myself a few more days.
My salvation, it came quite suddenly
when Justin spoke very plainly.
He said, "Of course, its your decision,
but just so you know,
if you decide to leave, I soon will follow."
I wrote this for a baby that has yet to be born.
My brother's first child.
I hope that womb's not too warm,
because it's cold out here
and it'll be quite a shock
to breathe this air,
to discover loss.
So I'd like to make some changes
before you arrive,
so when your new eyes meet mine
they'll see no lies.
Just love.
I will be pure.
I know I will be pure.
Like snow.
Like gold.