I'm pondering the gun
Waiting in the other room.
Is there really a difference
Between destiny and doom?

I'm a hopeless, useless cadaver.
I'm a perpetual case of blues.
If living life is winning,
Then I think I want to lose.

I wouldn't miss each wasted second,
My birthdays every year.
I don't know what my destination is,
But it must be better than here.

I've been laying on this bed for far too long
Trying to evade my thoughts with sleep.
It's time to take it into my own hands;
I'm tired of being herded like sheep.

I'm sorry to whoever has to find me,
And to he who has to dig my ditch.
But if it does something to soften the wound,
This was my only wish.

And I wonder if they'll be ashamed of me,
When in death I do abide.
Whether they'll say my death was an accident,
Or a beautiful tragic suicide.