Hurt is the emotion anger the verb.
I can't fathom these words so absurd.
Your not making sense the part that's a shame
you've fucked over and over again and I'm the one to blame
our liability of work, not a damn thing's changed
But you can't find the time so instead we're rearranged
and while my fingertips sweat my vast number of complaints
on plastic keys Centro begging me please
Fight those thoughts of suicide.
And while memories are tormenting my brain of years wasted
Compensated in exchange
for hours of sex on my heart has been stained
Able I was
and now I've been Cained
Nails digging deep graves all over my veins
Brown flesh turned red raised and bloodstained
Box cutter in my organizer tormenting my brain
Saying you want to use me
for all those years in vain
for the revolving doormat
you have been claimed
He wasn't too busy that night when he came
or overnight when you stayed but a simple hello
was a thought way to frayed
and now a shaking body is all you left to gain
So why fight these thoughts of suicide?
Razor, knifes, pillows, a bag full of belts.
Midol, Motrin, Antibiotics what else?
Three outgoing calls with no answer to save me from myself…
While fighting these thoughts of suicide
so instead on my own two feet I stand
I look in the mirror with the tears that began
and I say "I love you", I will hold your hand...
while your fighting these thoughts of suicide
