They say that life's a gift,
But why is it,
My broken down spirit always needs a lift,
And I feel that I have to drag myself out of a worm infested pit.
Is my life really worth living?
Why do I just keep on giving,
But not receiving,
Now do you see why I'm thinking of leaving.
You say to me 'go on be strong',
'You could never do anything wrong',
I might as well stop lying,
All I think about is dieing.
Would you be there at my funeral,
Acting all calm and cool,
You don't respect me,
You hate me.
All your sadness is just front,
I know it is,
'Cos really you think I'm a stuck up little runt,
So finally I know that I wouldn't be missed.
So my conclusion is,
If I kept on giving,
I'd still end up slitting my throat,
Really, if you think about it my life isn't worth living,
