What life is this, when we live it constantly in pain?
Nothing hushes the feeling not even the soft pounding of the rain.
So when things go wron gin our lives who will put things right for us?
Will you help yourself to another smoke just..... because?
It is the ery feeling that things may never be okay
As we life our lives in terror day,
Suicide notes pounding on our door
then suddenly bodies are hitting the floor,
So when the knife finally drops from our finger tips
and the last dropp of liquor never again touches our lips,
What is the secret to starting our life over becoming a person anew?
When all that remains are lonely broken hearts that haven't got a clue.