How To Be An Idiot

another morning still in bed, so many thoughts run through my head,

self-motivating not to be

i stayed up late the night before, to contimplate and self absorb,

there is no answer i can see

knowing my life sucks to me

yesterday i wrote another goodbye note

i took a razor and i tried to cut my throat

but i missed a dull blade one of my first signs

i found a plastic bag to wrap around my head

it was a little small i killed the cat instead

that little bastard's suppose to live another 8 more times

what's wrong with my mind

prozac for the way you feel, makes your body so sureal

having one with wine is just the trick

took a lighter to a can of raid, drinking drain-o lemonaide

and all it did was make me really sick

but i don't care, my whole damn life seems so unfair

do you know what might be wrong with me

here in my own hell, they say that i don't look so well

do you know how lonely it can be

knowing my life sucks to me

today i'm feeling down, like most of the time

i called another dam suicide hot line

and the girl on the phone didn't really care

i said i'd end my life, but it always falls apart

i couldn't get my brand new car to start.

the disappointments more than i can bare.

opened up the oven door, laid down on the kitchen floor

and only burned my elbows on the rack

jumped out of a flying plane, you'd think that i might be insane

but i forgot my chute was on my back

i tied a knot and pulled it through, and broke the ceiling fan in two

it only made me dizzy for a bit

now i'm burried underground, and everyone just stands around my

grave stone with the caption "idiot"