I'm sorry* I'm no fun to be around,
I just don't know where else to go,
Who else to bother with my company.
I love you, I do,
So please don't get fed up with me.
If you ever realized you were sick
Of my ever constant gloom,
That would be it, my last straw.
The illusion that life has meaning
Would shatter without you,
And I'm bound to cut myself
On the broken pieces
That should have been my heart.