I was twelve when i travelled across country,
Left all my friends for a new one and he loved me,
I was sixteen when my daddy got shot,
Found in the dirt, he started rot,
I was eighteen all alone and lost, i was scared of the word and all i hadn't got,
Scared of the world and everything i had lost.
I jumped, off the golden gate bridge, i lunged, i floated, i gave in,
I fell for days and days, a real twisted play out of my ways.
Thought i'd make it, never make it but i made it anyway, i should be thankful but they took from me a card i chose to play.
Now i don't know how long it's been.
See i can't remember a fucking thing,
So they locked me up in this facility by the sea, with views of that golden gate bridge.
They let me out all but once a week, who would of thought this would be my version of free, who would of thought this would be the best version of me.
I stare out that window, looking at the red stained bridge, views haunting me of what should have been and what will be.
