This young man is tired of pain,
of living life full of shame
minutes of hurt,
hours of despair,
this facade he has to wear
he looks back as life drifts by
and whispers 'what the hell have I? '
He remembers when childish games were played
when living wasn't a life you've faked
he stares up into that dying sun
and feels the weight of that loaded gun
and as he feels the tear that drips
he takes that forty to his lips
one last swig, and now its gone
just another weakness he has shown
he remembers the old days back in that bar
when cuts on his wrists were only a scar
when music and whisky took him away
and he outraced pain for another day
an endless dream seemed so so real
now its a prayer for the life he'll steal
this pain he hides, so no one sees
a broken man down on his knees
he's felt his heart, so bitter and cold
and says goodbye to the life he's chose
'An alcoholic, a life so bitter'
is his last thought as he pulls the trigger.