He's wrong...

He thinks he's useless, he thinks dumb
Thinks he's as useful as a starving bum
He hurts himself, threatens suicide
Thinks it'd be better if he just died
But he's wrong, in more ways than one
I love him, I think of him like none
I love his jokes, I love his laugh
I even love his darker, rotting half
But, if only he could see it, if only he knew,
If only he would believe me, when I say, 'I love you....'