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I want to punch you.
Just to see you bleed.
I want to hurt you.
Just to see you cry in front of me.
I want you to die and burn in hell.
I know all of this must ring a bell.
You were the best I ever had.
Now it's all over and it's all too sad.
I hope you're glad I'm dead and gone.
I hope you've noticed we could've gotten along.
I tried; I really did.
But it doesn't matter now,
For I never lived.
As I sat there all those lonesome nights and then cried myself to sleep,
All I could think about was how "Life is so cheap."
As I lye there and let time pass me by,
I realized I was singing myself a lullaby.
Not one that I had read in a nursery rhyme or book.
But one that had caught me with a hook.
I noticed that this was all mine.
For I had sung myself my own lullaby.
In life everyone has a role.
Mine was never found; never told.
All through life I hope you realize it's just one big lullaby singing you to sleep.
For some it might start late.
With others it might only take a week.
But I was never special; never belonged.
I hope you're happy.
Now that I am dead and gone.