Here I sit drowning in my sorrows
Hey, do you mind if I borrow
That razor blade?
It'll be returned in a couple of days
But not by me personally
I'm telling you that while I still can verbally
Ima take it and stir it in my own blood
At least until my body hits the floor with a thud
There's a lot of reasons to go; a variety
My reason would be because of society
They just point and laugh
They wouldn’t be chucklin
If these things happened on their behalf
But the laughter rings, no one offers a hand
There is only one set of footprints in the sand
But this time God ain’t carryin me
I sit by myself because I'm all alone
I think its time to delve into the unknown
And into thoughts of life after death
A kind of peace that one comes to know, only when laid to rest
So all these things run through my head
As I lay myself down in my bed
Prolly for the last time
Ya’ll jus remember me and my rhyme
I used to be funny like David Spade
Now my life comes to the point of a razor blade
Maybe
If I would’ve died as a baby
Or stayed in the womb
I wouldn’t be sittin here thinkin bout my tomb
Sittin in my room
The time is comin soon
For me to die
Everyone will wonder why
But I don’t care
It’s the details I’m not wanting to share
Ya’ll kick me around
And I’m expected not to make a sound
So I do this
I slit my wrists
Ya’ll are at my casket
You know you have to ask it
The one question that bothers you
What would I have done if I'da knew?
You say you would’ve acted different, if I was still around
No you wouldn’t, you’d still be kickin me while I was down
It’s really sad to see
When it takes a tragedy
For you to realize you were wrong?
Then you cry and boo-hoo when they play my song
You wanted to help me?
You could’ve by leaving me be
But it’s too late now
So I take this blade
And trace my vein down my arm
Finally I lay my weapon down
I ain’t makin a sound
Even though it hurts
The pain inside hurts worse
I grow dizzy
And the room grows dark
My eyes slowly shut
No light, no spark
I’m scared and cold
That's how it feels when your story's at its end
So when the news comes out
Don’t be all loud and shout
"Why O' why did he have to die?"
I want you to be quiet
And think about what you did
And about what you said
Why do you think I’m dead?
Why am I in this bed?
These questions are for you my friend
And they’ll haunt you until the very end

James Brown
1-9-04

Revised on 8-10-05


 
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