I sit and listen in silence,
why did I have to get mixed up in my head with all that violence?
As the slow music begins playing,
my spirit realizes where I’m laying.
I start to hear weeping,
why is my blood still seeping?
Whut did I do last night?
I fear they’re digging my burial site!
I remember a butcher knife,
Did it take my life?
Why are my parents crying?
Is it because I’m dying?
They’re at the morgue and I want to know why.
All they can seem to do is cry.
Is my brother okay?
Please don’t let this be his last day.
Whut’s the doctor holding under the light?
Oh my god it’s the knife I used last night.
It’s me… I’m dead.
The knife’s showing… deep red.