“I want to get my razor blade and grip it tight in my hand, I want to clench my hand so tightly, that the veins stand on end. I want to take the razor blade and push it deep into my vein, I guess there's nothing quite like, that first feeling of pain. I want to feel the blade, as it burns deep down into my skin, I want to drag it down my arm, so it cuts up my wrists. I want to pull the razor blade and pay my karma with this, I guess there's nothing quite like going insane, death is simply bliss. As the blood spurts out my arm, the pain is unbelievable, I'm looking at my arm and all I see is trouble. I want to stop but I can't, because I feel terrible, I can't live with the guilt of being caught, I guess I'll carry on. The blade is tearing through my skin, Like a light-sabre tearing through butter. The pain is unbearable, But it feels like it could last forever. The blade is resting above my heart and I smile as I die, I've slit my throat and said goodbye, so now it's time I should fly. I've just got one last thing, to do before I retire, I push the blade deep down into my heart and await Hell's burning fires.”
