Die die die

Those who think they're saints dive right into hell
Sinners on the other hand have a chance of redemption
I know I'm a sinner but I'm not sure of my chances
Bitterness floods my blood
Depression sinks deep in my bowels
I think of forty ways to kill myself happier
Each way shows me the end but not the destination
I'm sorry for being unhappy all the time
but it seems days just don't get any better
If there is a way of escape, won't it come sooner
Perhaps an unworthy soul like mine should die slower

what i think about when im sick

fever's overtaken me
the ringing ache between my eyes
and sore muscles down to the spine
ain't gonna make me stay in bed
i need fresh air and no cares, a space of my own
the sight of the pills, the sounds of your voice
its making me sick, seek down to core
i'll find the cause of my disease in a virus that lingers in my home
a virus called depression, it lurks
spreading repression of emotions
and depletion of hope
it eats me slowly, deadly
robbing my soul
as the temperature rises i can't think straight
and every second i think about the pain that awaits
on the other side of the grass, i imagine to be
an ungrateful lifestyle might make many flip

why make yourself miserable, you say
why put yourself through this, you fool

its just my way of seeking closure
when i am sick in my bed