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I sit down on the edge of my bed
Tears flowing down my face

I pick up a razor I keep
For times just like this

I slowly move the cold razor
Over to my arm

I push down on the razor
Tears still flowing down my face

It goes in
And I quickly pull it out

What did I do?

My arm now throbbing with pain
Yet I only feel the pride of getting it through

Once again I pick up the razor
And again I drive it through

I pull it out
And wipe it off

I finally realize what's going on

My arms tell the sad truth
Yet I don't care