Like a flower withers up after it's prime,
It's my time now, but how will I die?
By sword, by stone, or simply by a lie,
Maybe then you will hear my cries,
for a hand to pull me out,
Understand what I say and shout,
Know what I feel, understand what I'm "troubled about",
But all you ever do is doubt....
Try to stop thinking of yourself and how your so blue,
Look from my point of view,
See? Your not the only one who is through,
Wanting to give up, no that's not just you...
