Wake up every morning
Wondering if I
Should live or die,
Think about my friends
I know are waiting for me
In the sky,
Shotgun in my bed,
I take it out and
Then I Pump the slide,
Put it in my mouth
And give myself
Some time to wonder why,
Should I pull this trigger,
Or should I just go
Lay down and die?
Should I curl up in a ball,
Or should I let my
Feelings lie?
Reaching for my Xanax
'Cause that bottle is
Just all I've got,
Pop a couple just to
Make the voices stop
So I can rise.
Gotta find a reason
Just to get up
Off my lazy ***,
End up on the streets
Where you can find me
Flipping **** for cash.
Looking for some ****?
You need that hard?
You know I've got your back.
Need some company?
I've got this number,
And she'll call you back.
When the day is over,
Hit the bus and I
Just stumble back,
Pop a few more Xanax,
Smoke a blunt,
And then i hit the sack,
Open up my eyes,
And reach between my
Mattress once again,
Shotgun in my mouth,
And cradle it
Like it's my only friend.
This is my "hypothetical" life these days. Wake up, think about ending it, take 5 minutes to decide whether or not it's worth pulling the trigger, hustle, come back, and do it all over again. I hate myself more than anyone else in the world, and even though I have friends who love me and support me, I can never seem to love myself. So I just go to sleep, wake up, and do it all over again.
