As i clutch the window sill;
preparing for the fall;
i hate you, i hate them;
but i hate myself most of all;
the peolple are all straring up at me;
their faces all aglow;
i hear a man call out to me;
as my hand starts to let go;
his hand grabs my shoulder;
and pulls me into his embrace;
i think it is satin, it is the devil;
as turn and see his firey face;
i stare one last time;
at the people gathered round;
i stare at them all;
as my face hits the ground;
at least that life is over;
at least that world is through;
i laugh as i watch that hell left behind;
yet cry as i see a knew

 
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