I always come to you when i’m tired of life
Sticks and stones break bones, words cut like a knife
Sometimes i can’t sleep, i lie awake in my bed
Staring at the sky, dark, like the thoughts in my head
I, often, wonder what happens to the soul when you die
Does it roam free in paradise..can it walk, can it fly?
Will i see my grandparents, uncle, and father there?
Will anyone on earth even notice or care?
Will my body just rot on this bed that i made
While memories of me so soon they will fade
The answer to these questions, i won’t know for a while
So i’ll keep pretending as i walk around with a smile
Because i don’t have the guts to put a blade to this wrist
And i don’t have a gun to blow my brains into bits
So, i’ll keep living the same day every day
And turn to you when i have something to say
Because it’s you i come to when i’m tired of life
Sticks and stones break bones, words cut like a knife..