Why does life always go bad?
Why do we want what we cant have?
We never fall down to our knees.
We never cry out "God, Oh Please".
We take the razor up to our arms.
Your arms are numb, so it does no harm.
Your blood slowly drips to the floor.
With every cut, more and more.
You drop the razor and say that's enough.
Your arms are bloody, your face looks rough.
You go to school and everyone stares.
You get pushed around; no one cares.
You go home and turn out the lights.
You lay your head down and say.. Goodnight.
