Suicidal ballerinas dance in her head,
They do in mine too, but I'm holding a gun instead,
Razorblades scattered all accross the floor,
The pain is emmence, yet I beg for more,

I don't understand this game I play,
A game of Russian Roulette with my life everyday,
Holding the loaded barrel up to the side of my head,
Pull the trigger...damn I'm not dead,

Grab a razorblade, and start to cut again,
no one shall know...not even my closest friend,
My mom asked me about the blood stains on the carpet,
I said "I didn't know" and she bought it!

I Don't deserve to live,
I'm waiting here to die,
Consider this as my good bye