i am getting sick of pity parties. so i wrote this.
shot in the head, in a hospital bed i'm dying but i am not teary
how would i miss what i know as 'bliss' when i'm dead, but my friends are near me
they self-pacify and op'rate, no goodbyes they'll say cuz they don't wanna cry
i don't need "crusaders," they'll go sometime later and duh will be saying "oh, why?!"
"he's a good man, if your god is so grand, then why does he let bad things happen?"
you're selfish again, mr. 'bad' happens when i'm playing no part in life's mappin'
"god" you're questioning, life everlasting, what the hell gives you nerve to assume
that earth is the place, the last place for his grace, the heaven that knows of no doom
sooner or later we all sleep alone, and of death we just have no route
but your comfort zone is everything known, so when anyone dies then you pout
a word to the wise, accept one's demise, don't fight all you don't understand
pride stands in the way, well i guess you're just gay, a mule - nice ego, nice brand