I spend most my life trading time for others' problems
All of the while I can barely seem to solve my own
You know I'm not a therapist and I don't want to be one
Somebody better show me the shelf for lost causes
I wish to be an artist forming colors from chords
And melodies looming like train wrecks
I will write into short stories
But I don't think that it's worth killing myself over anymore
To be honest, I think that suicide is boring
Life, it hit me in my twenties with a baseball bat
It was shredded the second it made my body collapse
Now sharp and piercing pain is all I know
I hit the ground, made no sound
No, I am not a therapist and I don't want to be one
Somebody better show me the shelf for all lost causes like me
When I get to the moon and the stars you will see that
I'm not what you tried to force me to be
I wish to be an artist forming colors from chords and melodies
Looming like train wrecks, I will write into short stories
But I don't think that it's worth killing myself over anymore
Yeah, suicide is kind of f*cking boring