f I had a gun, I would hold it to my head. Close to my temple, so no one could see. And ask myself why oh, why do I call this a life, this a life I live. Relationships that always sink, no happy ends with friends. Places filled with people that want to, but can never help. Drugs that have no shame, money and fame that will never be claimed. You say I want to commit suicide, I say suicide wants to commit me! And as my finger is set on the trigger, thoughts rush, what’s in the chamber! Is it to be, who me, to fail so much that I can’t breath.Maybe one day I could live the life of a Brady. And as I’m kneeling here what all should I be feeling? Love for all the pennies? Time will there be plenty? Paradise is only a dream that really never sewn at the seams. And tell me please, how can one that care so little for life, have so much life to give? Do I fear God? Or more myself? For I have choose the path that I live.
