I wish I owned a gun,
all this bullcrap would be done.
I'd be gone out this place of hell,
where I would go I cannot tell.
I don't know what I did to make my world suck,
but I really gave up because I'm sick of all the bad luck.
Blow my brains out the back of my head,
knowing that instantly I'd be dead.
Everyone around me wouldn't even care,
knowing that the next day I wouldn't be there.
Everyone would be so glad,
no one would give a care, yet be sad.
They'd be yelling at me about the blood,
but with my luck the bullet would be a dud.