• Music’s blasting in my ears,
    The greatest hits from all the years.
    As a song draws to an end,
    I wait with joy for my next new friend.

    My hearts beating like a drum,
    My legs are starting to go numb,
    I wait for ages in silent bliss,
    I begin to note that music’s amiss.

    I wait for longer, but still no sound,
    No bass is thumping, vibrating the ground.
    So I get up, and amble to the door,
    To my Walkman, I’m pleading for more.

    Still no sound but the hissing of speakers,
    I begin to groan, my body growing weaker.
    I try to skip the track it’s on,
    It falls asleep with a giant yawn.

    And I’m left alone in soundless fear,
    My thoughts become sharp, and the message is clear.
    I guess it’s true what they say about life,
    You live to be blood on The Reaper’s scythe.

    I’ve lived alone for all my time,
    In fear of sadness, knives and crime.
    The song words spiralled and became my voice,
    I let them do it; it was all my choice.
    But what’ll I do now that the songs are through?
    How can I start again, with a life that’s so new?

    I decide upon my fate in a second,
    The Doc was right when he said that he reckoned,
    That I’d try my best, but I would blunder,
    He’ll see he’s right when I’m six feet under.

    The knife in-hand catches the light,
    And glistens as I tear and fight,
    With the skin on my wrist, I’m through to bone,
    My soul slowly parts, and slips into unknown…