Jonathan Davis

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Blood, Tears, And Pain

I want to cry till the river runs blood,
let my wrists slice with a swift flood.
Nobody can understand my deadly thought,
if they try their minds will rot.

Hang from a tree, cut from a knife;
no one cares if I end my life.
Fall from a bridge, shot from a gun,
everyone will continue with their fun.

There, ones cut; but wheres the pain?
Why can't I feel it, am I going insane?
Maybe if I try the other one,
still nothing, maybe if I wasn't a virgin.

Why is this such a hassle?
Should I just use the pistol?
Boom, still alive, still here;
damn I'm a queer.

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