Underground_Network
June 25th, 2009, 07:39 PM
Dialing random numbers
Late at night, on someone's
Phone that you don't know
Quite why you have it...
A girl picks up,
Its just your luck,
She's your biggest crush,
Oh what to say?
The wrong words slip out,
And she just laughs
And oh how much that hurts,
So you decide to play a game...
You decide to take a chance,
And put one bullet in the barrel
Of your dad's .32 caliber Smith & Wesson revolver,
And you spin the cylinder and cross your fingers and you pray...
Oh and if suicide's a game,
Why do we constantly complain,
That our mistakes can't be replaced
And adolescent means insane?
You put the shiny, silver gun
That you'd never before touched,
To your head and you whisper
Something inaudible at once...
You pull the trigger, cringe your teeth,
You squeeze your eyes shut,
Nothing happens, so you repeat,
You spin the cylinder again and...
If suicide's a game,
Why do we constantly complain,
That our mistakes can't be replaced
And adolescent means insane?
You put the gun at your left knee,
And you pull the trigger lightly,
Just enough that if the bullet's there
It will kill your spirit, destroying what's left of you...
The gun goes click, no bullet quits
The chamber and you smile now,
Your confidence built up, it seems
You're no longer depressed or crazed...
But still you spin the cylinder
You're testing fate, a big mistake,
You put the gun back to your head,
You smile and next thing you're dead...
But if suicide's a game,
Why do we constantly complain,
That life shouldn't end that way
Because that's just not how life is...
Late at night, on someone's
Phone that you don't know
Quite why you have it...
A girl picks up,
Its just your luck,
She's your biggest crush,
Oh what to say?
The wrong words slip out,
And she just laughs
And oh how much that hurts,
So you decide to play a game...
You decide to take a chance,
And put one bullet in the barrel
Of your dad's .32 caliber Smith & Wesson revolver,
And you spin the cylinder and cross your fingers and you pray...
Oh and if suicide's a game,
Why do we constantly complain,
That our mistakes can't be replaced
And adolescent means insane?
You put the shiny, silver gun
That you'd never before touched,
To your head and you whisper
Something inaudible at once...
You pull the trigger, cringe your teeth,
You squeeze your eyes shut,
Nothing happens, so you repeat,
You spin the cylinder again and...
If suicide's a game,
Why do we constantly complain,
That our mistakes can't be replaced
And adolescent means insane?
You put the gun at your left knee,
And you pull the trigger lightly,
Just enough that if the bullet's there
It will kill your spirit, destroying what's left of you...
The gun goes click, no bullet quits
The chamber and you smile now,
Your confidence built up, it seems
You're no longer depressed or crazed...
But still you spin the cylinder
You're testing fate, a big mistake,
You put the gun back to your head,
You smile and next thing you're dead...
But if suicide's a game,
Why do we constantly complain,
That life shouldn't end that way
Because that's just not how life is...