poolshark

take it away, but i want more and more. today's the day that i lost the war. i've got this razor, but i can't bleed and i can't breathe. so i'm the anti-social one. and i'm the only one in the twenty-four hour mexican place, sitting in the corner, crying myself to sleep. and if i could do it, i would draw the razor from my elbow to my wrist and leave behind this world so full of shit. and there's literally nothing good left here. i helped kill the last of it along with the rest of you, but i'm the only one crying in remorse. my baby likes to sleep around. i like bleeding in my bedroom: slicing through the jugular tonight. the only thing that keeps my name off the toe tag is the thought of whoever finds me. and i'd imagine that i'd look really pale to them, i'd look dead. but i've been dead for so long it would be hard for me to tell the difference. and the repititious cries of "don't be sad" and "you're a good guy" are the only thing hollower than i am. and i can't bleed because i've got nothing left inside. so take this last breath from me and sing something sweet with it. sing a requiem for beauty, sing a requiem for love, and when it rains you'll feel my tears crying for you from above.