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If It Helped 8-13
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2004 Walking home all on your own
Not knowing how much we care
Crying to yourself at night
Hoping to God someone was there
Staring at the knife hidden away
Pondering your decisions, but never aloud
It's just those things you think about
That won't make anyone proud
The thoughts are so horrible
Everynight I wish to cry in bed
The thought of you there
In the tomb being dead
Your every laughter in the silent room
Cutting the air, so simple but true
It's just that this thought of red
This thoughts just aren't you
Never speaking to me anyway
It makes me want to cry
Doing what I can to make you happy
If it helped, I would die
