Days spent in repetition
Everything becomes a blur
Would it be easier to end myself now?
Who would really care?
Would anyone cry for me?
I will set myself free
A bullet to the head
Or a noose around the neck
It doesn't matter how I go
I will save myself from this hell
With the sweet release of death
My body will become cold
And decay to its natural state
My bodies composition
Could become something else one day
Maybe a tree, a bush, or an animal
My life of hell
Could become something great
Anything is better than this
Even if I'm not around
Someone could enjoy what I've become
The one thing I will have done right
Will be when I am dead and gone
So I will end it now
Knowing that one day
I could be something great
