Music

Most people would say music is the cure for anything

Been listening to that first beat since I was breastfeeding

Now I look at my wrists and I’m bleeding, music isn’t the cure for me

I asked for your love but you just gave me a shove

Spit in my face and now I’m dying in this place

Grace, you were my everything, my love, my life, coulda been my wife

Now I’m sitting here cryin and listenin to Phil Collins

Yeah, I could feel it callin in the air

Bitch you don’t love me, you wasn’t there, you didn’t even fuckin care!

I went to that fire because that’s where my desire for you burned brighter

Went home that same night and took out my favorite knife

You always did say I was a good artist

I’m gonna ignore my conscious with some music and slit my wrists