Saturday, 28 November 2009

Goodbye

Head in a mess.
Buckling under stress.
Can't take the ride or the view.

End it all now.
Simple as know how.
Knowing what you're meant to do.

Jump or fall over.
Stung by a Range Rover.
How to construct a suicide.

Holy good health.
I'll bury myself.
No one shall know that I died.

(God I'm a miserable git tonight. Fucking shite cider.)

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