Now my project is over,
Feel like so is my life,
Both are written in stone.
Just like a drone,
Living this life out,
Day after day,
Does it matter anyway?
And now I'm running out of things to say,
Is this my last day?
Just want to go away,
Away from here,
Towards people who understand,
Maybe just towards my early grace
That I've brought on myself.
So now the project is over,
But it brought on new thoughts
That I can totally accept.
Believe now I'm here for a reason,
And that reason just ended,
And now so should my life.
Have this weird feeling
In the pit of my stomach
That this lie of a life
Is ending.
And what's the point anymore?
Going on will just bring up more pain,
More blame,
That I will have to hold and take.
I'd rather let it all out
Like the blood in my wrists,
And end this life,
Quick and easy.
Not a noose,
While I hang there dying,
Could never get my hands on a gun.
Could find a razor, maybe a blade,
End this once and for all.
Could get some pills
To make me sleep,
Forever and ever till the end.
These are the thoughts I can't stop from coming,
And can't help welcoming them in.
But I have to stay here
For just 1 more month,
Till I give it all to them.
Supposed to have a nice little weekend,
But I know the whole thing will be hell.
I may just die that weekend
Maybe for sure,
Will be sleeping in the tub.
Turn the water up just too much,
"Fall" into the water when I'm alone.
And no body will know
What possessed me to do it,
Except for them,
And my true, real, friends.
And none of them will suspect
What will happen to me if I stay home alone
Just too long.
So I finished one project,
I ran out of things to do.
Alone for a few hours,
So depressed it was awful,
So now I'm writing my notes.
Apologizing for what I'm going to do,
It's good to be prepared, I guess.
But I'm writing my suicide notes.
To my real friends,
Not to my fake ones,
One to them,
Don't know what I'll say.
Can't possible matter anyway.
Somehow I can tell I'm losing my life,
Slowly, but surely, no doubt.
