"Puppets"
It's so hard living in this world and all you want to do is die.
Sometimes it seems the only way out is suicide.
You take the blade and cut it deep.
You don't even cringe and nothing fails.
You stop to think if this is the way and
if you will ever see a better day.
Life's to depressing, so you take the easy way out.
You assume you'll be easy to forget about.
Take the blade, cut it deep.
Nothing Fails. Nothing Fails.
All the lies you were told.
All of the lies you have lived.
It's to hard to live,
no more wondering "what if."
You'll be gone, no worries then.
No more hardships and no more sins.
So the blade goes deeper and the blood starts to flow.
You think "do I really want to go."
Hate is all you have inside,
So nothing better than to say goodbye.
The blood flows more and
the tears start to pour.
The sink turns dark red And
the faces you see, you start to dread.
You pull the blade away thinking you'll try again and that it's no big deal,
Heck maybe next time you'll try pain pills.
Next thing you know you're lying in bed with your head on the pillow.
You look down and no blood flows.
It was all just a dream or was it a nightmare.
All you can do is just sit and stare.
You start to cry,
thinking to yourself that you don't really want to die.
It is to hard to live,
but much harder to take it away.
The chance to see life and happy days take over and consume all of you,
you can only feel confused.
All the bad life seems to fade away for a minute,
nothing left not even a hint.
The drugs and drinking to get a quick fix,
All the lives you ruined for just another hit.
It all seems fake like a drama on T.V.,
but it's your life, like one big disease.
You think I'll get help and get out of this life,
I'll get out and won't feel so much strife.
I'll become a better person and won't stay ill,
but then you reach down again for that last little pill.
Tomorrow you'll worry about the ways to get out,
but now you just want to escape into your own little cloud.
Thoughts of suicide soon return,
and all the bad you begin to yearn.
The pictures of you holding the blade and cutting deeper seep back in,
you just want a way to escape and make all the pain end.
The blade isn't really cutting you in the end of it all,
it's all just a dream, like one big fall.
The real nightmare in it all is that you're doing everything to yourself,
you're digging yourself down, bringing your own death.
You're causing yourself so much pain and the thoughts of suicide.
It's to hard to escape it's got you pinned down to die.
This is your life, it's who you are,
but really you could change, you just don't care anymore.
So the blade cuts deeper and the blood continues to flow,
We're all just puppets in this crazy freak show.
